AR: Those Who Fight - Hellhounds Edition
by Katkiller-V
Summary: A collection of one-shots from a variety of points of view, expanding and exploring my take on the Mass Effect universe. Expect appearances from Warlords, Spectres, Councilors, and others as they try to deal with a galaxy on the verge of falling apart... all while the Reapers and Leviathans loom in the background.
1. Grinning Murderess

I don't own the Mass Effect.

* * *

 **Another Realm – Those Who Fight**

 **Hellhound Edition**

 _I'm going to be trying something a little different with this edition of Those Who Fight, building on what I did with the team of marines in Chevalier and the first perspectives from Nikita Korolev's point of view. Using secondary and minor characters for the points of view, we'll explore a bit of the AR-verse version of Mass Effect in order to build up the wider universe and take a look at what Shepard, Cieran, and Miranda are doing from outside perspectives._

 _Current chapter concepts include roles for Ashley Williams, Halia'kul vas Antiva, Magnus MacKinnon, Jondum Bau, Nynsi Shaaryak, Aria T'Loak, Donnel Udina, Yan T'Ravt, and others. I am also toying with the idea of having chapters to explore the Matriarch's Cult and old Cerberus's operations, I will likely be putting up a poll on my profile to gauge interest in that._

* * *

 _ **Grinning Murderess**_

 _Halia'kul vas Antiva_

 _Date:_ 11-01-2187

 _Location:_ Hall of the Elders, Old District, Celthani, Xentha

* * *

The old hive was changing... and the bitching was epic.

"You can't be serious!" A raucous voice shrilled from the lower bowl, the old woman slamming a hand down on her desk. "Allowing aliens to recruit within our walls was one thing, allowing them to build _factories_ within the District is too far!"

High Elder Shar'lan slammed his Elcor-bone cane into the ground to punctuate his retaliatory snarl. His desk and those of the Superiors were slightly elevated from the rest, allowing their owners to survey the assembled Elders, one from every _vhaka_ on planet. "You would rather we continue to send our children into Celthani proper!? To be abused and paid a pittance as _servants_?"

"They should be hired here!" Veh'frea snapped back, not about to back down. "Our economy is improving by our projections, we do not need _alien_ charity!"

That drew another Elder into the fight, Fehi'chi rising and slamming her tooth-covered staff down onto her desk, a few trophies sending fragments flying as they chipped. "Watch who you accuse, gutter-born! My niece holds a position of power in their corporation, as do others of our race!"

"Hardly!" A scoff came from a male near the back, the boorish Wes'kular heaving his bulk upright. "Where are the Quarian Captains and Commanders? They are all Turian, Asari, Batarian, our people are little more than chattel!"

I could only sigh and sink back into my chair, closing my eyes as I heard the hair rustling coming from the other Takers on our observation deck. It was the same ancestors-cursed argument that had been going on ever since the High Elder had agreed to the Blades' proposal, and despite the fact that such was entirely his right, the other Elders continued to howl and whine. Personally I thought it was mostly motivated by the fact that none of them were receiving cuts from Kean's corporation.

Not that the clever _keshin_ was doing this out of charity or anything equally inane. In exchange for re-equipping the Guard with weapons and armor sold nearly at-cost, training them once they had the new toys, and bolstering their numbers with a full regiment of soldiers; the Blades would be given full access to the District when it came to recruiting, permission to purchase land and construct arms factories, and anyone bearing their mark would be off-limits for the Takers.

"Oh look." Hesk'with sighed from where he was sitting beside me, "Real politics begins."

I cracked an eye open in time to see Fehi'chi smash her staff over Wes'kular's head, the male recoiling in pain before gamely getting his bulk up and over his desk in a surprising display of athleticism to tackle the younger woman. Other brawls had broken out elsewhere, but the majority of the Elders seemed content to simply remain at their desks and comment on the fighting. For his part, the High Elder and the other Superiors strode down from their platform, doing their best to haul the combatants apart and have the floor-staff drag them outside to cool down.

And naturally, in their own observation booth, the Elders from Antiva and the other Imperial worlds that held our kind were already pointing, shaking heads, nodding, and otherwise revealing that they were betting on who would win and how long this particular brawl would last.

"What do you think about all this?" I asked, watching as Voya'chi's aunt did her best to kill her rival in the short time she had before Shar'lan got to their part of the fight. Her staff whirled as she got it up in both hands, parrying aside a heavy blow before jabbing it at Kular's fat, following that up with another snap-strike at his skull.

"I don't really care." Hesk replied with a lazy shrug, the male kicking his legs out and sinking back into his chair. A single hand rose to run through his neat beard, making the Human tags around his wrists jingle softly. "I don't intend to join you or the others, I prefer my independence, but I'll admit to being tempted."

"The pay?" I guessed, smirking a little as Fehi'chi abruptly went flying backwards when Shar'lan grabbed her by her hair, the High Elder following that up by winding up with his cane before slamming it into Wes'kular's chest.

"The gear." He corrected, giving my body a significant glance before returning his attention to the floor, watching as the combatants were hauled out of the room by whatever body part the floor staff could keep a grip of.

I smirked a little, stretching my arms and feeling my new armor move with the motion. While I still wasn't sure about the dour navy and silver coloration, I could appreciate the sleek, customized Musakani made armor covering my body, just as I could adore the brand new Shaaryak-Redcliffe Carbine resting beside my chair, the Blade model hand-cannon secured on my belt, and my nearly unlimited access to armories filled with a delightful variety explosives.

I was particularly looking forwards to trying out the SIU modded razor-wire grenades.

"It is rather pretty, isn't it?" I teased, running my claws over my chest. "You want to know how much it all cost?"

"No." The man groused. "No coat yet?"

"No." I sighed, kicking one leg over my other to make my Vorcha-teeth anklet rustle. "You only get one of those when you pass their training and officially noted as a Lancer. Still, if you change your mind I can put in a good word for you, or maybe Deshi could. Voya probably wouldn't though, don't think she ever forgave you for that mess on Cultchatka."

His eyes rolled a little, "Everyone in that family is a vindictive little _keshin..._ guess some things don't change. She still a raging xenophiliac?"

"Somewhat." I turned my lips down a little as I thought about my old... friend wasn't the right word, we'd never really been close, but we had been stuck dealing with each other on almost daily basis during our time together in the Lady's army. "She's edgier, twitchier than she used to be, and I think she's sleeping with Kean."

"Huh." Hesk grunted, "Thought she preferred Asari... didn't she have a thing with Elder Cor's twin bodyguards for a while?"

"Depends if you believe her brother or not." I shrugged, "Still, having met him, he's not bad. Shoulders are a bit narrow but his mane is rather impressive."

The other Taker grunted dismissively, but the general chatter ceased as the High Elder finished limping back to his place, the various other politicians settling back into the chairs as official business resumed.

"The treaty with the Silver Blade Corporation is not up for debate." Shar'lan boomed, his deep voice easily carrying across the large chamber. "It is my right as the High Elder to negotiate on the District's behalf, it has been signed and completed."

"If I may?" Another male cautiously rose from a position near the back, his formal robes a mixture of teal and black. "I am less concerned with the agreement, Shar, than I am with the speed with which you concluded it. This... Kean seemed desperate for markets, for recruits. We could have held out for more. Why did you rush the deal?"

I grimaced in irritation. The old _keshin_ should have just asked 'what you know that we don't?' and gotten it over with instead of dancing around the stupid question.

My uncle glowered, but thankfully answered the unspoken request rather than the idiotically spoken one. "During my conference with the Lady this past week, she hinted strongly that the District's time as being exempt from her conscription is nearing its end."

Cue uproar in three... two...

"The deal with the Blades will-" He didn't get to finish the sentence as the lower bowl exploded as furious shouts came from a good thirty of forty throats, wood and metal clashing as staffs and canes were slammed against the floor or desks to emphasize whatever point their were trying to make, and things more or less fell apart for the second time in ten minutes.

I could only shake my head as politics became a full-contact sport once more, the younger and more virile Elders trying to shut up their rivals by physical action rather than through words. That lasted all of a minute before the High Elder lost whatever patience he might have still had and flung a stunner into the most chaotic section of the brawl. Everyone on the upper level winced a little at the deafening ring and flash of white, though the old _kolsha_ below had it far worse, many of them emptying their guts onto the floor or clinging to their former enemies just to stay upright.

"Enough! From all of you!" Shar bellowed into the dazed silence. "The next conceited little _keshin_ to interrupt will be strung up by your mane until your learn to keep your mouths shut!"

I smiled in bemusement as the quiet continued, looks of shock visible on many faces. Violence was hardly uncommon to this hall, it was practically a ritual at this point. The usual response would simply have been to let the idiots fight it out with their fists and staves of office, for the worst to be dragged out for an hour or two, and for the calmer heads to discuss everything in the relative peace that followed.

Using an actual weapon, even a non-lethal one, was a serious breach of etiquette.

"Someone get those other idiots back in here, I don't intend to repeat this shit." He continued, irritably tossing his massive cane onto his desk with a heavy clatter. "Now!"

While the floor staff leaped to obey, I glanced at the nearest clock and scowled as I realized that I was running low on time. Pushing myself to my feet, I shook my head back and forth to make my hair rustle, gaining the attention of the others. Of the fifty or so Takers scattered across the wide balcony, perhaps twenty groaned and got to their feet as well, their armor the same dour coloration as my own rather than the chaotic mix borne by the others.

"Enjoy your training." Hesk smirked as I turned away, arms crossing his broad chest as he leaned farther back in his chair.

"I won't." I replied as I turned away, injecting some saccharine sweetness into my voice as I started walking. "But I will enjoy the paychecks... and the discounts... and the free gear."

His growl was just loud enough for me to hear it, and I smirked with satisfaction as those of us who had signed on filed out of the room. The more recent recruits took the stairs, while those of us farther along in the training regimen showed our wisdom, and our sore legs, by deciding to wait for the lifts.

"Would have liked to have heard the rest." I glanced to my right, seeing the young features of Kulo'tash. The young man had a lovely set of bruises on the right side of his face, legacy of picking a fight with a Batarian in our hand-to-hand lessons a few days ago. "You think he's telling them the same intel that the Blades gave us?"

"You mean the same intel our initial briefing gave us." The reply came as a low murmur from behind me, Jure'halli replying in her soft voice. "We _are_ Blades now Kulo, remember that."

The youngest Taker to volunteer winced. "Right, sorry. Still, you think...?"

"Probably." I replied with a shrug, "Information is the sharpest knife after all."

A quiet hum of agreement went through the small crowd before we all piled into the elevator, an almost unnatural silence falling as it began to lower us down to the ground floor. I wasn't exactly comfortable with silence, I didn't think any true Quarian was, but it was hard to say anything when you remembered half of the ancestors-cursed shit that we'd been told the day after we'd signed our contracts.

We'd all been a little more than annoyed when Executive Commander T'Laria had showed up. The pay and equipment may have been outstanding but the fifteen year lock-in period hadn't been, nor had the news that, if we retired before _twenty_ years had passed, we would be expected to return all of our gear. A few of the others, mostly the younger ones, had been equally displeased to find out that they wouldn't be kept on all-Quarian units, and that they would need the Director's explicit permission before undertaking assignments from the High Elder.

The... 'presentation' that had followed had more or less blasted that clear out of our mental valleys. Helmet camera footage of... _things_ inside of Omega's mines, similar creatures in the bowels of a Cerberus base on Carastes, and massive data-files filled with raw data, images of a thousand dead Reapers above and upon Ilos, known events believed to have been influenced by Leviathan action, and theories about possible future actions from both parties. The sheer _scope_ of what the Blades and Greater Warlords thought was coming was...

I mean, we'd all heard the stories and warnings about the black orbs, the assertions by that crazed Human Spectre and conspiracy peddling fools that the Reapers were real and were coming... but I hadn't honestly believed in any of that. _Maybe_ there were a handful more of giant ships like Saren's old ship, and _maybe_ the Asari had found some ancient being that thought of itself as a god, but nothing that the galaxy couldn't muddle through.

Sederis' proclamations that total war was coming suddenly didn't seem so insane, and I felt far smarter about joining the Blades before the Lady could begin conscription of our people. I didn't doubt for a moment that active Takers would be at the top of her list.

"What's on the docket tonight?" I asked as the lift reached the ground floor, eager to find any other conversation to distract myself. "Anyone's hacks stay in place?"

"Mine did." Jure replied. "Crash alarm at midnight for the full base, so we'll want to get to bed early if we can manage it."

There was a chorus of groans as we all filed out, moving down the old stone halls, staff leaping aside and watching as we strode past them. I flicked a hand over my chest, making sure my necklace was firmly on display, and heard the others doing the same.

"A full afternoon of squad exercises," Kulo complained as we moved, two fingers running over the Krogan crest shards hanging from his belt, "And then probably a full night of running around in the dark."

"Look at it this way," I advised with mock sagacity, "Those Huntress bitches will be doing the same thing, and we get paid twice as much."

He snorted, " _Keelah,_ Isuppose that's true."

I smirked and was more than ready to throw out a few ideas on how to mess with the stuck-up Asari who hadn't made the cut to join the elite, only for my eyes to widen as a slightly short but extremely well-dressed male moved to stand directly in our path.

His dark suit had been woven from a hideously expensive silk, and the coat wrapped around his deliciously broad shoulders was obviously real Antivan leather. The beard was a tiny little patch of white upon his chin, but he made up for it with an expansive mane that flowed past his shoulders, the white strands rustling as he smirked. A hand bearing rings upon each finger rose to his chest, tapping a small metal tab hanging from a simple cord around his neck.

The identification tag of a particularly vicious Corsair, whom the Hegemony had paid me a small fortune to deal with.

"I hate you." Jure muttered, raw jealously in her voice. " _Keelah_ but I hate you so much."

I turned and gave her a smile that was all teeth before accelerating, my Promised openly looking me up and down as I approached.

"Halia." He cocked his head a little, "That is... a novel ensemble."

"Nole." I replied, "What did I say about greetings?"

He blinked, then the skin around his eyes darkened, his mannerisms shifting to reveal his youth. " _Hal,_ we're in-"

I grabbed him by his coat before he could continue, hauling him up onto his toes so that I could press our mouths together. He resisted for all of a second before giving in, and I enjoyed every second of the groans and complaints from my kin around me as I reminded them just who had claimed the rich heir to the Zhakas family.

The young man was more than a little flustered when I let him, go, his flush not vanishing in the least. "Please tell me we aren't going to do the second part in public."

"Of course not, your father would kill us." I couldn't help but laugh merrily at his evident relief, "I mean, we haven't done any preparation. No advertising, no ticket sales, think of the haul we could bring in-"

He sighed and leaned up, shutting me up by virtue of pushing his skilled tongue into my mouth. I hummed in approval before turning him, allowing him to wrap an arm around my armored waist. The other Takers had continued on, and I set off after them, my future mate easily keeping pace.

"You're leaving already." His voice was low when he spoke again, our little group proceding out through the main doors.

"Unfortunately." I replied with a sigh, repeating the sound when I realized that the crowd from earlier had not diminished. Most were waiting for the official words from the Elders once the closed conference had concluded, and a few whose ancestors had been enterprising souls were selling food and drink to the waiting masses, but a sizable portion were clearly hoping to glimpse any Takers they could see.

Several other Promised quickly pushed their way through the crowds, finding their partners to spend what time they could during the short walk to the shuttle pads, a loud of amusement came when Jure's Promised simply picked her off the ground and spun her around, and when she tried to launch into an embarrassed tirade, he simply dipped her nearly horizontal and kissed her deeply. Others were far more demure than she and I, simply speaking quietly or exchanging quick embraces.

In contrast, those who had not yet attached themselves quickly drew the attention of young men and women eager to claim them. Kulo, inexperienced young man that he was, made the mistake of moving too close to the edges of the crowd and was promptly encircled by young women eager to ask for every detail about the Krogan that he had killed... while showing off the rich robes and scarves that teased heavily at what lay beneath.

I smirked a little, entirely content to leave him to his fate. "I do have scheduled leave in two weeks, three days in Asariel, we're getting a rest before our live-fire mission."

"Truly?" He perked up at that. "I don't believe that I have any plans... perhaps I should reserve a floor at the Garden. Perhaps a massage artist from the bordello your Blades own in the city would do as well."

The lustful groan at the idea came out before I could prevent it. "I will be there, and I _will_ kill anyone who tries to stop me."

Nole'Zhakas laughed and smiled, clearly beyond happy that he could please me so easily. I didn't mind the enthusiasm much, finding a Promised eight years younger certainly came with some advantages. It was like having a little Varren pup around, hanging on your every word and almost desperate to maintain your approval.

His pace slowed a bit as we drew nearer to the elevated shuttle platform ahead, the vehicles themselves descending slowly through the cleared paths in the hive that as home. "Can you tell me what the meeting was about?"

"No." I replied flatly, shaking my head, "You'll find out soon enough, and you know better."

He frowned a little at my blunt refusal, then sighed and shook his head. "Sorry, father insisted I ask."

I mewled and shrugged, accepting the apology. The disadvantage of picking the son of the fifth richest man in the District was having to deal with the fifth richest man in the District. He was always looking for more information, more influence, more ways to expand his businesses. The oaf hadn't taken the news of my new employment well, and would likely take the news that the Blades were expanding into the city proper even worse.

Killing him would be in extremely poor taste... and if I was being realistic, Nole wasn't anywhere close to ready to run the various interests... but it had become extremely temping after Nole had told me that his father had broached the idea of him _leaving_ me for a 'more appropriate Taker'.

"Halia..." His voice was low when I growled, glaring at nothing in particular. "Please don't, I'm not going to give your trophy back or anything so stupid."

"Of course not, I wouldn't let you." My nose flared as I let out a sharp exhalation. The Promised simply _didn't_ leave their Takers, not unless some rather _extreme_ circumstances occurred. It just wasn't done. "But if that fat _keshin_ implies _anything_ the next time I see him I'll-"

Nole sighed and leaned over, his sharp canines pricking at my jaw. "I know, I warned him."

I growled a little, not at all assuaged. "If he thinks that _money_ matters more than tradition and pride he is-"

It was his turn to grab my neck, stopping us both in place as he pulled me into another moment of passion. I allowed myself to relax after a few seconds and return the affection, and we only separated when I heard Jure shouting at me that it was time to leave.

"Two weeks." I informed him as he reluctantly let go of me, "Massage artist, a full suite. One with an ocean view."

"I'll be there." He promised, stepping back.

I nodded, turned to leave, and then shook my head sharply and dropped to a knee to undo the anklet wrapped around my right calf. Nole gaped as he caught the small string and the collection of Vorcha teeth, his mouth opening and closing in shock.

"For your loyalty." I told him as I narrowed my eyes. "And I expect it back, those were all armored veterans with those stupid flamethrowers."

The young man simply stared at me, then shook his head and bowed as low as he could at the waist, clutching the small thing to his chest as he did. My expression softened a little, and I smiled as I turned and strode up the stairs, finding Jure holding the shuttle's hatch open for me.

"You are impossible." She informed me as I stepped into the shuttle. "Seriously, _two_ Trophies? I thought the kid was going to have a heart attack."

"Adorable, wasn't it?" I grinned as I found an open seat near the front, confirming with a glance that Kulo wasn't present. "Kulo?"

"Probably being dragged to a bed as we speak." She replied, moving to collapse beside me as the shuttle's engines thrummed their way up to full power. "Hope the fun he has is worth it when the instructors shave him tomorrow."

I laughed and settled back, kicking my left leg up to remove my remaining anklet. I'd probably weave the teeth in with the tags around my throat until I got the other one back... or maybe I'd be able to find replacements.

"Our first mission," I asked, "Pirate hunting?"

"Consortium tried to put a hit on the... on _our_ people on Novgorod." She replied, "So even better than pirate hunting, _slaver_ hunting. We get through two weeks of training, we can go have some fun."

Two weeks of training... then three days in a full-floor suite with a young man who would be desperate to please me in every way I could desire, probably along with an Asari capable of working out the aches and pains from months of training, and I'd be following that up with a lovely little jaunt into the Traverse to kill pirates and slavers.

Possible doom of the galaxy notwithstanding... I was living the good life.

* * *

 _Thought this might be a fun little snippet. Not much plot relevance in terms of the main story, but it works to cement the 'super-celebrity' status of Trophy Takers in the Old District, and provides a few other glimpses into their culture._

 _I don't really have a set chapter length in mind, so expect them to bounce around considerably as I find the motivation to turn these out. Next chapter will be from the Lady Warlord's pov as she handles a conversation with her sister, and makes a deal with Aria._

 ** _ **Please read and review, criticism is welcome, flames not so much, as usual. Reviews are my lifeblood as a writer.. every-time my email goes off with a review it makes me want to write more, so please take the time to leave one. Guests can leave them as well, and it only takes a minute, so please. Even if it's as simple as "I enjoyed it, please continue."**_**

 _ _ **Thanks, Kat**__


	2. Layered Ice

I don't own the Mass Effect.

* * *

 _Fair warning, this one is a bit darker._

* * *

 _ **Layered Ice**_

 _Yan T'Ravt_

 _Date:_ 11-01-2187

* * *

 _"The traitor yet lives."_ My sister frowned as she settled back in her couch, a glass of fire-wine held negligently in one hand as she regarded me from the clan's home upon Thessia. " _And she even deigns to call... what is the occasion?"_

"Cynthi." I replied, crossing my arms behind my back, emphasizing the martial uniform I wore, contrasting it against the casual silks covering her own body. "Can family not converse with one another?"

" _They can,"_ She replied with a small smirk, " _But you are not family, you have not been since you fell to your back for that filthy creature."_

I lifted a hand to my chest in mock surprise, "Oh, I see, you misunderstand, you believe that I wished to speak with you. Rest assured that I would never consider a creature like yourself to be family."

The excellent quality of the image let me see the twitch in her cheek as she frowned... but regrettably my sister was too composed to show me any further emotion, and even more unfortunately, she was not so stupid as to not reach the correct conclusion.

" _I see._ " She murmured quietly, her eyes half-closing. " _She was taken alive then."_

"She was." I replied.

The words were enough of a signal, a door to the rear of the conference room opening to reveal a troop of the Blade-Wind corporation, the heavily armored Turians dragging in the nude Asari that was their cargo.

My niece hadn't been captured easily.

Her bare flesh was covered in petty wounds and cuts, cheap bandaging put around the more severe wounds to make sure that she didn't die before the appointed moment. Even with a slave's collar around her neck, and her hands and ankles bound by thick shackles, it took four of the mercenaries to haul her flailing body into the room, the gag doing little to obscure the curses she was trying to spit.

Using long control rods attached to her collar, their forced her to her knees beside me, using their height and strength to keep her twisting body in place.

" _Musio..._ " Cynthi sighed her daughter's name. " _Very well Yan, I will entertain this conversation. What do you want in exchange?"_

"What do I want..." I murmured in reply, turning and casually approaching the bound matron. Musio T'Ravt glared spitefully up at me and tried to rise and lunge in my direction only to be held in place as her captors grunted with the effort.

"She has spirit." I turned to regard my sister once more. "Something from your bondmate, perhaps, though I am sure that the sadism is entirely of your own spirit."

Cynthi's eyes narrowed. " _There is no such thing as sadism when it comes to the beasts."_

"I'm sure they would disagree." I replied evenly, reaching out with my left hand to run fingers along Musio's crest, entirely ignoring the way my touch had her increasing her bucking five-fold. "Still, she likely has a trove of information within this mind, demented though it may be. Perhaps dear Aria would consent to a mind-rip."

" _Please do."_ Came the easy words. " _I am sure that she would enjoy the safeguards that the true Gods taught us."_

I knew that well enough, we'd had to shoot two of our interrogators after they'd made the attempt. "Unfortunate... and I doubt that she would tell us anything willingly, and even under the influence of the proper substances... I could not trust her lips."

" _Her only value is that of a bargaining chip."_ Cynthi affirmed. " _Now I will repeat myself: What do you want in exchange? An exemption for your little empire? A place in the order that comes? The technology to fight the Reapers?"_

Turning, I regarded her, my hand still upon my niece's scalp. "In exchange for your daughter's life?"

 _"Yes."_ She narrowed her eyes, " _Come, Yan. You were always the mediator, the rational one. Let us negotiate. We both have something the other wants. The Gods are great and merciful, even your deviancy is nothing compared to faith in their wisdom. Return Musio and I will ensure that-"_

I gave her no warning. One heartbeat she was speaking, the next I had drawn the wave knife from its place upon my back, yanking Musio's head back with one hand while the other drew the curved weapon across her throat.

The glass fell from Cynthi's hand to shatter on the floor, all traces of composure vanishing as she gaped, watching as her daughter's life blood poured from the slit on her throat. I had done it cleanly, neatly, she had more than enough time to know that death was coming. Her flailing became animalistic, desperate, and actual tears came from her eyes as she tried to escape her fate.

Then the movements slowed... and the goddess's light left her eyes.

"Negotiate with Athame." I drew myself up, uncaring of the blood now covering my white uniform. "As I had to when you killed everyone I loved. Commander, dismember that thing and then pitch it into the void."

The mercenaries dutifully hauled the body out, Cynthi still looking as if she had succumbed to shock as they departed. It took her several minutes to return to her shores, a shaking hand clenching into a fist as her breathing accelerated.

" _I... will flay you alive for this."_ Lips pulled back from her teeth, " _I will beg the Gods to flay your soul even as I do. You will die in agony that you-"_

A gesture of my hand saw the signal cut, letting her continue to rant at nothing but static.

Silence fell until the only room's only other occupant spoke, her voice like edged silk. "Feel better?"

"Do not ask stupid questions." I replied, closing my eyes and bowing my head, feeling the hard leather of the blade's hilt in my hand. "They do not become you."

Booted feet moved across the decking, words becoming sultry. "Blood _does_ become you."

I shook my head slightly. "I am not in the mood for sex."

"What _are_ you in the mood for then?" She replied, "Regrettably that was the only member of your family that I had available, so executing more of them isn't an option."

The sigh that escaped my throat was entirely heartfelt. Aria was at her most aggravating when she had you by the quad and knew it... and right now she had me entirely in her grip and was going to drag every concession she could out of what she had just given me.

Opening my eyes found her her in front of me, her arms crossed and a smirk upon her lips. "What _are_ you in the mood for, dear Yan?"

I stared back at her, then exhaled tiredly and turned away, "A drink."

There was a quiet laugh as she followed me, exiting the small communications center to move through the restricted halls of Afterlife. Aria caught up quickly enough, guiding me down the unmarked paths until we reached a heavily armored door that slid open to reveal her bedroom. It was as luxurious as I could have expected, but far more tasteful than I knew Jona's chambers to be. She reveled in her wealth but felt no desire to flaunt it.

It had hardly changed since my last visit, nearly a decade before... at the very least, the mini-bar was still in the same place. A few minutes later found me holding a glass of wine in my hand while my body sank into a Human built chair. Aria settled into the chair opposite, her own liquor rising and falling as she sipped from her drink.

"The last time I was in this room." I mused, turning my cup in lazy circles in my hand. "There were more chairs."

Omega's Queen gave me a level look, then inclined her head, acquiescing to the unspoken request for small talk. "The last time you were in this room, I allowed Heinrich the illusion of independence, and the Krogan and Salarian yet lived."

I hummed softly, lidding my eyes as I remembered. I had sat where Aria was now lounging, with Sederis upon my left, and Weyrloc Zaen upon my right. Ganar Yulaz had been... there, preferring to lean against the wall rather than sit, while old Gormack had never left the bar. Heinrich had sat in my current place, while Aria had been to the left. The seven great warlords of the Terminus... strange to think that had been our last meeting.

The Blue Sun Network had just begun to reveal itself as a problem, that fool Santiago allying many of the lessers into a loose alliance intended to threaten us, and we had all gathered to discuss the matter, along with the increasing irritations caused by the shadow war between the Alliance and Hegemony in the Traverse.

"My sister manipulated us well." I sighed tiredly. "We've gone from five beings who could unite the region down to three, and the return of Jona's sanity has seen the return of her obsession... meaning realistically it is down to you and I."

Aria pursed her lips, then seemed to sag within herself, an exhaustion that made her throw back the remainder of her glass. "If not for Kean's luck in Zeta, I would be dead as well, and this station taken or destroyed."

Knowing the young Human, I severely doubted that he considered himself anything like lucky to have undergone what he had in those mines... but from her perspective, I could see the point. Had Ganar's invasion been seconded by a swarm of husks and the enthralled population of Zeta, not even her return to the station would have saved it.

"Although," She continued, "You, of all people, can hardly complain of Jona's focus."

"I take my revenge where I can get it." I replied, shaking my head, "When it is practical to do so, that is why I have waited for centuries to achieve even a the smallest piece. I do not cause galactic incidents in the hope of forcing circumstances to align... _no,_ what I just did is not causing such an event. My sister fully intended on torturing me to death when convenient, this may see a few additional attempts, but the sentiment was already in place."

"Perhaps." Aria murmured.

I sighed, setting my glass on the table beside my seat, "What else did they retrieve?"

She rolled a shoulder in a tired shrug, "Close to a hundred captives slated for experimentation, five lesser members of the family, and a good deal of log files and research that I intend to sell to interested parties."

"Already trying to buy his loyalty?" I asked bemusedly.

"I no longer have the luxury of disliking him." She replied, shaking her head, "Unlike yourself and Jona, I do not have a nation-state ready to provide me with fodder. Athame's ass, I don't even have a _population_ that would accept organized government."

A true statement, I supposed. If my Free State and the Xenthan Empire had been the bastions of order within the instability of the Terminus, Aria's holdings had been the bastions of chaos even amidst said instability. To the pirates who followed her banner, she was merely the first among equals, and while they obeyed her in war-time, they did so in a decidedly limited fashion. She had to herd and cajole them, tempt them with simple targets, limited objectives, and to use her core fleet and small army against anything she needed handled directly.

By the goddess, the majority of her tithes came in the form of _loot_ rather than hard currency, materials that she had to barter away in turn. Worse, more than half of her 'vassals' lacked true colonial homes. Their ships were their fortresses, and should she make a single misstep in dealing with them, they would simply join the general migration to the Traverse, weakening her position all the more.

Her voice broke me from my musings, her tones becoming edged once more. "Our arrangement?"

I sighed and waved a tired hand. "It will be as we agreed. I will look the other way when you recruit the pirates, and accede to the Hierarchy's requests to stifle their operations from within my borders."

Thus bolstering her numbers, assuring her vassals that she was not becoming 'civilized', yet maintaining the new Game of politics against the Council... and putting a small irritation within my economy at the same time. "And the other matters?"

"Redcliffe is yours." My head shook. It was hardly a concession, given the state of the place; I drew no real recruits or credits from it, and it was more than isolated from my main holdings. She, in turn, planned to give it to the Wave and to the Blades as a 'gift', to be ruled in her name. It was a clever plan, something that would ingratiate her rather heavily with B'Val, and likely with ul Massa as well.

She already owned the allegiance of the Blade-Wind, the third largest such corporation now that Sederis was shuttering her branches of the Eclipse in favor of nationalism. Gaining influence over the Cresting Wave and Silver Blades in turn would nearly double the number of soldiers available to her, and they would be worth far more than the common rabble.

"And should we all survive the war," I continued on to the third stipulation, "I will remain neutral in any conflicts that may arise between yourself and Jona. A pointless precaution, in my opinion, but I will swear to it."

Aria gave yet another tired motion of her shoulder. "No paranoia is pointless when it comes to Jona. If anyone is capable of causing a crisis in the wake of a galactic war, it's her."

"True." I sighed. "I do wish that Leska loved her less."

"I was thinking the same of Ithiri." Came the mirthless response as she stood, heading past me to refill her glass. "Would you prefer something stronger than that water?"

"No, thank you. I would rather not have to stumble back to the _Tide_ in such a fashion."

There was a snort from behind me, "Ah yes, we can't deny you your precious dignity, can we?"

Pursing my lips, I reached for my glass only to find Aria neatly shove a heavy, Krogan-style mug into it instead. A flick of her free hand sent my wine flying to shatter in a corner, and left me glowering at her and at my new drink in turn. "...Batarian mead? Why not simply kill me now and get it over with?"

"Is it not the duty of a guest to accept the gracious food and drink of their host?" She gave me a vicious grin as she strode past, returning to her seat.

My glower became a glare. "I detest it when you use my culture against me, Aleena. Especially when you do so to distract me from questioning you."

When Aria replied, her voice lowered, accent becoming the rolling tones of Thessia's upper crust. "I know, little Yan, but you've always fallen for it, even when we were children. Drink up."

Still glaring, I tilted my head to the right sharply, old habits announcing my irritation even as I brought the stupid mug to my lips. The second went down more easily, and the third easier still, the station becoming little more than a pleasant haze around me. I think that I tried to stop her from pouring the fourth down my throat, but she didn't find it difficult to simply hold me down as she did so.

Seven or eight hours later I crawled out of her bed, my entire body aching unpleasantly. Aria, the bitch, looked as if she hadn't imbibed an entire bottle of rum in addition to several glasses of mead the night before. She merely smirked from her place upon her couch before returning her attention to her morning reports, leaving me to clean myself in her shower. I emerged to find my uniform freshly pressed and cleaned, all of my niece's blood entirely removed from the white cloth.

My mood had not improved by the time I had collapsed into one of her chairs. "That would constitute rape in most of the galaxy."

Her eyes rolled, "You are much more pleasant to be around when you're drunk."

"You mean I won't have sex with you when I'm sober." I retaliated. "There are very good reasons for that."

Aria shrugged, as uncaring as ever for my opinion of her. "You do this every time we fuck... can we skip the theatrics? If you were going to storm out you would have already done so."

I glowered at her, then closed my eyes and let my body sink into the cushions. "A meal before business."

There was a quiet snort, but a few minutes later a trio of her dancers slipped in bearing covered trays of food and tall glasses of water. I watched the scantily clad maidens with the same wariness I treated any professional assassin that approached, relaxing only after they had departed. My host smirked a little at my reaction, but otherwise didn't comment.

It was only after we had finished eating that I spoke again, having manged to calm myself over the course of it. Aria was Aria, there was no point in hating her for who she was, who she had been shaped to become. She got me drunk not because she was incapable of seducing me without the aid of impairment, but because she simply couldn't risk me remembering what I saw in her mind. It was yet another reminder that, while superficially our pasts may have been similar, we had both been cast out by families more concerned with tradition, appearance, and quiet agendas rather than with the well-being of their own... but beneath that veneer of similarity, she had suffered far more than I.

I had spent much of my exile in the Traverse, and had been able to evade the worst of Terminus society before I had formed my nation upon Antiva. Aria... had spent centuries upon the black pit that was this station. In many ways she was little more than the living embodiment of Omega, the avatar with which it interacted with the rest of the galaxy. At this point Jona and I were the only living souls with whom she could even partially become Aleena again.

I'd have pitied her if both facets of her personality weren't self-absorbed, manipulative, uncivilized, aggravating _whores_.

"How did you locate the facility your mercenaries raided?" I began, not seeing any point in drawing things out further. "I doubt that my sister was so stupid as to have left evidence at the others, and I know that neither the Broker nor Cerberus knew of any that they hadn't yet cleared."

"I have my sources." She replied, kicking a leather clad leg over her other.

I regarded her flatly, then exhaled as the wave reached my mental shores. "You did find another then."

Aria merely smiled, cagily revealing nothing. My lips pursed a little as I considered the matter, fighting the urge to grimace and reveal my frustration. She had either located the so-called Twins, or the twentieth experiment, but in either case they would be at her research facility. So far as I knew, not even the old Broker had been able to breach the blockade she had established around both ends of the Relay connecting Omega to her hidden colonies, and I doubted that my people could do any better.

"There are several other bases and research outposts," She spoke into the quiet silence that accompanied my thoughts, "Unfortunately your sister is not unintelligent, she has already shuttered those within easy reach, and Musio was in the process of closing the location before she was taken."

I exhaled sharply, "Did you locate any other actionable intelligence?"

"No." A blatant lie, but not one that I could easily challenge. "Come, it is nearly time for Heinrich's report on the state of the campaign. You may return to your Empire after."

I glowered at her for the tone and the presumption... but rose all the same, following my host as she led me to her command center. As we walked, I should have been considering the various angles of what Aria was doing, or preparing solutions for any one of the dozen issues that I would have to deal with upon my return to Xentha.

But all I could think of was the memory of cold leather in my hand, the image of my sister's agony, and the thrum of satisfaction that had made my heart sing.

* * *

 _A bit of insight into Yan and Aria's relationship, such as it is, as well as Yan's relationship with her sister the Matriarch. A few hints as to other background events that are occurring, things that will crop up later in the main series but aren't terribly relevant at the moment._

 ** _ **Please read and review, criticism is welcome, flames not so much, as usual. Reviews are my lifeblood as a writer.. every-time my email goes off with a review it makes me want to write more, so please take the time to leave one. Guests can leave them as well, and it only takes a minute, so please. Even if it's as simple as "I enjoyed it, please continue."**_**

 _ _ **Thanks, Kat**__


	3. Modus Vivendi

I don't own the Mass Effect.

* * *

 _ **Modus Vivendi**_

 _(Nynsi Shaaryak)_

 _Date_ : 11-10-2187

 _Location:_ City of Verai'ukton, Khar'shan, Hegemony

* * *

"Illium may have taught you how to manage corporate interests," Delsuh Shaaryak crossed his thick arms, my warrior cousin narrowing his eyes though he was careful to keep his posture rigidly neutral. "But your societal endeavors remain out of place here."

I regarded him without expression from the family throne, fingers resting upon the cold marble arms, knowing that the wisdom of the Pillars would be visible in their gold runes above my head and shoulders. My arms remained where they were not because I did not wish to show my irritation, but because the gold-weaved robes marking me as the Head of House Shaaryak were damnably heavy and I had been stuck in them for most of the day.

"I did not think you were capable of such indirect talk, Delsuh." I murmured, disguising my annoyance with a coy tilt of my head.

A rumble of laughter came from the assorted members of the family in response, distant cousins and adopted relations revealing their amusement at the pompous ass's expense.

"Speak plainly, if you could." I continued once the merriment had run its course, "Do you refer to my support of the Equalitist movement? Perhaps my investment and position within the Silver Blades?"

Delsuh shook his head minutely, "Your continued lack of an heir."

"Ah." I bowed my head in an exaggerated show of regret, "I am sorry, dear cousin, but I do not think that the family would benefit from inbreeding... and that scar remains simply hideous."

The remark drew drew more smirks and hisses of pleasure even as the armored male's lips curled in anger, the jagged scar running across them making the expression even more unpleasant. "This is not a _joking_ matter. You are the last member of the core family, it is your _duty_ to produce a son to continue the line that began our nation."

"It is my _duty,_ " I matched his own stress upon the word, "To choose a _proper_ father of said son, to ensure our family's continued strength and power. The Balak and the Del'thran would subsume us."

Delsuh glared at me, "You are not even courting-"

"Enough." A rasp of a voice cracked out from Northian, the old man limping a step away from the stone pillar he had been leaning against. "She is not old, and has several decades of time before she can no longer conceive. We did not achieve our great wealth and power by rushing blindly into matters."

There was a deep murmur of agreement from the remainder of the House, especially from the Merchants and Laborers. Cousin Behir stepped away from the small group that was from the latter caste, the middle-aged male the only being present to serve upon a Highborn Council.

"Patience." When he spoke the reminder of the hall fell entirely silent, and even Delsuh turned to regard him with his full attention. "Patience and calm are the traits of our blood. Let the southerners rush about in their deserts and heat, let their passions burn out while we watch, build, and learn."

Bodies shifted to the left as bows of respect accompanied the taciturn man's retreat into his typical silence, and I made sure to catch his eyes with my own as I bowed my thanks.

The ranking warrior of the family observed the reaction of the room, then seemed to sigh and nod. "I am chastised, and will leave the matter be for now."

"Good." I replied, my tone even rather than mocking. The point had been made, my power and support affirmed. Attacking him now would net me nothing further, not amidst the family. "Then we will continue our prior discussion on our interests."

Northian's creaking voice spoke in turn, "You continue to make... unusual trades, leader of our House. Land and business for harder assets, ships, military vessels. Strange purchases for a family whose ties have always been firmly to Khar'shan."

"Here, we have endured, yes." I tapped a single finger upon the arm of my throne, "Here we have remained rich, and powerful... but also stagnant, and limited. We have remained patient, waiting for the chance to expand, and that time has now come, but it is not upon Khar'shan."

Delsuh abruptly let out a pleased, hissing sigh through his teeth. "You intend to follow my sire's plan?"

I merely smiled in reply, giving them nothing more to read as an excited set of side-conversations immediately broke out across the chamber.

Delsuh's father had long been an advocate of expanding the family's holdings beyond the homeworld, and even in his dotage continued to speak in favor of such plans. He believed that the dark rim colonies were ripe for such a movement, their low populations and hard-scrabble nature marking them as easy prey. We would bring our wealth and power, buying their loyalty, and once they had grown into properly rated worlds, pushing for members of our blood to be made their _Ha'diq._

The civil war had not been kind to the region, it had been there that the old Patriarch had held the Eclipse mercenaries back as long as he could, trying to prevent them from reaching the Traditionalist bastions in the inner colonies. He had failed, in the end, but those worlds were now in dire need of support, supplies, and hard currency to assist in rebuilding them.

"Our assets here may be diminished," I spoke a few minutes later, my voice easily cutting through the speculative chatter. "But, in time, we will be able to more than recoup such things. Perhaps in as short a time as one or two generations, by my projections... but we must move quickly. The other Houses are not blind, they see the oasis just as clearly as we. Those of you who wish to begin moving your personal assets should consider beginning to do so."

Those Merchants present, the bulk of the family, nodded quickly as sounds of agreement filled the air. The Warriors looked nearly as happy, clearly eager to live upon worlds nearer to the Traverse and Dark Rim, eager to be able to make names for themselves in combat against a foes from without rather than within.

Those few members of the other castes looked far more uncaring, merely shrugging and accepting the change... excepting Behir.

"Why the fleet?" His low voice carried easily, and much as my own had, quieted everything at once.

I blinked my eyes in sequence, then shook my head slightly, as though I was puzzled rather than suddenly on edge. "You will have to elaborate, honored cousin."

"The hard assets you are acquiring are appropriate for what the colonies will need, what the family will need to establish estates." He spoke in his calm, placid tones, the slightest lilt indicating his questioning. "But why warships, transports, cargo vessels? Such things could just as easily be rented to transfer us, and combat vessels are entirely unrequited. The numbers you are buying in are far beyond what we would need to transfer such supplies... even if you intend to move it all in a single motion rather than establishing a simple rotation of vessels."

I considered my words carefully, allowing nothing further to show in my appearance even as I shifted my tones to become lecturing. "Think beyond the immediate, dear cousin. You spoke of our family's values... but you left off the most important lesson given to our children. A proper Shaaryak never restricts themselves to but a single plan."

His eyes narrowed as his posture shifted, showing his contemplation, but it was old Northian who let out an unseemly sputtering sound. "You... are assembling a _Szhoc'validan_? You intend to claim the title of __Szhoc'tinnan__? But you are..."

He shut up as I made to rise, those few other females present letting out angry, seething whistles between their teeth.

"...young." He finished rather lamely, body showing embarrassment... but not regret. "The title has not been awarded by the Patriarch's Council since the before the Second Civil War."

"I am aware of the history." I replied, this time allowing my irritation to show, as the others no doubt expected. "But as Delsuh indicated, I have a social agenda, one that I intend to pursue in concurrence with my plans for our family."

"The first __Szhoc'tinnan__ in a century." Came a quiet murmur from Aresul, the ranking woman present aside from myself, her voice and position clearly indicating her approval. "A member of the Shaaryak family, commanding a great trade fleet like one of old... the Terminus is stabilizing, ripe for trade, and your corporation's reputation ensures a minimal escort would be required."

Delsuh crossed his broad arms, "Returning to the Hegemony with holds full of Aria's eezo, perhaps Geth taken as salvage... the other Houses would have no choice but to accept our influence over the Rim colonies."

"And," Aresul, added, "Perhaps to allow greater power to our sex. That all she did in the war only earned us the ability to sit upon the lowborn's pointless councils remains an affront."

"Perhaps." The warrior dipped his head slightly, showing him far wiser than the old fools who openly shook their heads and showed their unhappiness with even that much liberty for mere females.

"That, I believe is enough for today." I announced before the conversation could continue, bowing my head in ritual farewell. "I have a meeting with the Hegemon upon the next hour, and it would not do for me to be ill-prepared for such a thing. May the Pillars guide our family."

The forty or so beings present all bowed in return, then turned to make their way out of the hall. A few minutes later the guards outside closed the great doors with a quiet ring of noise, leaving me along in the arching chamber.

I closed all of my eyes and let my body sink further into my throne, the scant comfort the hard stone provided entirely insufficient for my state of mind. The seat was as ancient as the palace complex that surrounded me, having been built in the early years of the Hegemony, when three successive generations had held the title of Hegemon.

It was a priceless artifact from a time long past... it was also one of the most uncomfortable chairs in existence, especially when one was called upon to sit in it for nearly five hours.

Of course, that could have also described this entire world. It was a monument to glories long past, a treasure trove of cultural artifacts honoring a nation whose markets had been coveted by the galaxy, whose power had alarmed the very Council, whose arrogance had rivaled Omega's... but it was also empty, hollow, and an entirely uncomfortable place upon which to live.

I had... been mistaken, about a great many things.

The Traditionalist movement was not what Xerol had taught me it to be, what I had believed it to be. Oh they obeyed the tenets of the Pillars, and properly cared for those beneath them as Highborn should... but they also rejected entirely the concept of change, of adaptation. They wanted nothing more but to live in the Hegemony of the elder days, to rebuild what once was without even considering that it had fallen apart for myriad reasons. Everything that I had done was to be commended, approved of... and now that the war was over, that I had served my purpose, I was to retire to my bedroom, to become nothing more than another woman to be bred at their convenience.

Balak and his Liberals seemed... if not precisely _rational,_ far more _understandable_ now that I had been forced to deal with the various Councils and Patriarchs. They understood that the Hegemony of old had _failed,_ that our culture had to change, and to do so radically if we intended to once again become a power in this galaxy. Their issues lay in their utter inability to compromise, to realize that we were not a people used to quick and rapid change, that they needed to push their agenda cautiously and slowly, working from the lower councils upwards... well, that and their insane foreign policy of isolation.

Ul Massa and T'Laria were going to gloat about this until my last breath.

"My lady." The quiet contralto of a Human female caused me to open a single eye, my usually reliable ears having entirely failed to hear her approach. The manor's ranking slave bowed low at her waist as she tilted her head to the right I opened others to better see her. She bore an elegant white toga that offset her dusky skin, a scarf of equally fine silks covering the collar about her neck. "My apologies, but the Hegemon has canceled the conference scheduled for this afternoon."

"Unsurprising." I inhaled slowly, then carefully released the breath. "Any other dispatches?"

"No ma'am." She replied, "I have already had your bath drawn and evening wear laid out."

"Thank you Bria." I bowed my head to the right, my thanks entirely sincere as I pushed myself up and away from the throne. The slave turned, following behind and on my left as I moved between two of the room's towering columns, heavy robes dragging my shoulders down, and it took effort to make the gesture required to open the concealed doorway leading to a servant's passage.

It was a thankfully short walk down its narrow length to reach a far more ornate hall, filled with artwork and grand windows overlooking gardens kept immaculate even in the cool tundra that was our lands, cold tolerant flowers and plants tended to by a small army of servants and slaves. Beyond lay the towering walls separating the complex from the city proper, the tall estates of the city's other Highborn visible even amidst the tenements and factories that dominated the skyline.

I turned away from the view as we reached my quarters, the same rooms that had once belonged to my grandfather. Here, hidden away from prying eyes, was my true home. Comfortable furniture imported from Illium predominated, the coloration pleasant shades of blue and white rather than the more dour appearance favored by the family's other members.

Chen was already present, wearing the navy and silver uniform of an Executive Captain, a flute of Asari wine held in a hand while his lower eyes were focused upon a tablet in his lap. The upper set noticed my arrival and he quickly rose his feet in order to bow in salute, "Lady... the great and powerful Hegemon too busy to meet with you again?"

"So it would seem." I replied, tilting my own head to accept his respect, my legs carrying me past him and towards the bathroom. "The usual precautions, if you could."

While I heard him quietly begin checking on the various emitters and jammers that ensured absolute privacy within these rooms, Bria assisted me in removing the ornate robes, grunting a little at their weight. She carefully began folding them while I impatiently removed the remainder of my clothing, lowering myself into a broad bath once I had done so, the heat of it delicious against my aching body.

"Everything's online ma'am." Chen spoke as he entered the bathroom, his lower eyes visibly flicking along the distorted image of my naked body, but allowing himself no more than that. "You want the full report?"

I sighed and closed my eyes, trying to enjoy the luxury. "Yes... Bria, please begin with the financial aspects."

"Of course." Footsteps sounded before I heard a soft sound, experience informing me that she had just heaved herself up to sit upon a nearby counter-top. "There is currently no evidence that the Merchant's Council is at all aware of what you are actually doing, and as you saw, your relations remain elated in their belief that you are playing the game locally and entirely believe that this is merely the first step in establishing yourself as a _Ha'diq_ in the Rim zone."

"Good." I murmured. "Progress?"

"Sixty-seven percent of the assets you control have been sold." She replied easily, "An additional eleven cargo ships have been secured from House Culorahk, and we were able to secure three decommissioned corvettes from the same. That brings our total to eighty civilian vessels and twenty-five military ships, though the _Sand's Lament_ remains the only cruiser we have been able to secure."

Chen let out a quiet grunt, "We can't risk buying any other big ships, last thing we need is for Del'thran or Balak to realize what we're actually doing. "

"Or Behir." I shook my head. "Laborer or no, he is intelligent and clearly holds the respect of the House."

There was a quiet pause before Chen spoke again, "Should our Lancer team arrange an accident?"

I considered the option with the seriousness it deserved. Killing him was the logical decision, his personality was on dedicated to the House, to the Traditionalist movement, he would never cast either aside, never admit the necessity of it... but my Lancers were not Cieran's elites, and while they were all combat veterans, they had yet to build the chemistry required to be a truly formidable team.

"No..." I sighed. "We would need to lay the blame at the feet of another House to divert attention, and I am not sure that T'Mari could manage such an operation. We will simply have to remain cautious and maintain the fiction that I intend to become a _szhoc'tinnan_."

"You are doing very well so far my lady." Bria assured me, "Even more, not a word you spoke to them was untrue."

My eyes remained closed as I fought the urge to sigh again. This entire scheme hinged upon my ability to play upon the expectations of others, and my skills at concealing my thoughts and emotions as my uncle had taught me. Given that only he and Cieran had ever shown any aptitude for seeing through my mirage, it seemed like a steady enough pillar upon which to build... but experience had taught me that things could always go wrong.

"What is the status of our backup plans?"

Chen exhaled heavily, "Everything is in place. If we get the emergency alert we can form everything up and be gone inside of an hour, but we'll have to leave a lot of gear behind."

"The gear is less important than the people." Bria countered. "And the movement has already begun. We simply have to hold for another two weeks."

From there the conversation turned to the precise details.

In addition to the three Line regiments I had initially arrived with, I had been able to assemble a further two from carefully chosen veterans in the wake of the civil war, forming a full brigade. I had also, at Chen's recommendation, raised ten 'light' regiments constituting of two combat companies rather than the traditional five. Their members had been drawn primarily from lowborn women and purchased slaves, those unlikely to be upset when the actual plan became evident.

Still... there would likely be problems once we arrived. Right now only a tiny handful of individuals knew the actual truth, and how the masses would react to having their misconceptions broken would be a test of my leadership. While a great percentage of the cargo ships were indeed loaded down with arms, building materials, and general supplies, a good many more were loaded with slaves, lowborn, and others who would be needed in the future.

While I had never explicitly told them of their ultimate destination, I had sworn that I was going to give them a better home than the one they were currently trapped within.

"The Second and Fourth regiments are just now reaching the Edge Run." Chen continued, "Along with the first transport unit and the escort flotilla. No issues so fare, but I'm not comfortable with how few crew we have on the warships."

"It cannot be helped." I replied, "We can't risk telling many of what we're doing, but those assigned to those ships _must_ know since we're slaving the transports to their command."

"I know, ma'am, just... fucking nervous." He admitted, "Wish we could tell Kean what we're doing, arrange some kind of rendezvous."

Bria sighed, "We've been over that, Captain. We can't risk it."

"Pillars be... I know, just... damn it." Some of his old, uncouth nature slipped out as his emotions warred with his discipline. "Lady, if you don't mind, I want to make sure that the First and the Lancers are on alert. I don't like that Delsuh was bringing that shit up again."

I lifted a hand from the water, flicking my wrist in permission. "Do so... and tell T'Mari that if she finds any hard evidence that she may make an example of him."

"Will do." His heavy boots sounded on the tile floor, then upon the stonework outside as he departed.

Bria did not speak again until after the doors had closed, not risking that we had missed a listening device outside of my chambers. "Lady... do you really think that he would harm you? He is your cousin."

"Distantly." I opened my lower eyes, frowning at nothing. "Despite everything I've done... the family is obviously on edge because I am mere woman. If he presented my pregnancy as an accomplished fact I doubt many would stand against him."

The human woman shuddered at the implications of my own relation abducting and raping me... or perhaps at the memory of her own treatment before I had purchased her. While she had never spoken of it to me, I knew from her market profile that she had served time in a warrior's brothel before a midcaste had purchased her to act as his assistant in his shop. "Even after ten years here... I can hardly believe how twisted it all is. That is just... _wrong._ "

While I agreed entirely, I didn't see the need to do so verbally. Some things were simply obvious. "Where we are going... is little better. In some ways it is far worse."

Teeth appeared as she bit her lip, her long dark hair shifting as she shook her head. "Maybe... but I have hope that it will be better. That your friends are just like the stories you and Chen tell."

My eyes closed again as I fought down the memories of everything and everyone that I had cast aside in order to secure more power. That in itself was not something I regretted... but the _purpose_ for which I had done so was something I very much did. Everything I had done, the time I had sacrificed, the favors I had bought and sold, the alliances I had built and forsaken, the.. _Harath'krem_ that I had loved and lost... I had done it all for my people, for my family, for my nation.

They had given me nothing back save for a few grains of sand, token gestures of appreciation, and vicious desire to see me swell with some fat _chenethic_ 's spawn.

Even the very Hegemon that I had spent an immense amount of political capital putting into power had proven to be little more than yet another fool, eager to disprove his family's legacy of instability and return them to glory... he did not truly _care_ about the Hegemony, or its future. He was nothing more than a Conservative wearing the cloak of Tradition to disguise himself, to make his agenda more palatable to the old fools now in power.

It was infuriating on a primal level, a rage I could feel in my very soul.

Ul Massa had been right, the Hegemony was doomed. Better to build something new, something pure from its very creation.

The bitch T'Laria had been right. I had never understood Khar'shan... perhaps Xerol never had either.

 _Cieran_ had been right... so very right.

And I... had been so very wrong.

Pillars lead my steps, for I abandon the fools who claim to heed your wisdom, I cast them aside into the drifting sands to follow the true path. Pillar of Strength, lend me the power to crush anyone who dares to impede my journey. Pillar of Kin, aid those who I bring with me in standing against that which will pursue us. Pillar of Heart, let those who I forsook forgive an unworthy soul and see my regret. Pillar of Unity, see my faith and let it bind others to my cause.

Pillar of Wisdom... guide me home.

"Bria... please go after Chen." I opened all of my eyes, grasping the sides of the tub and heaving myself to my feet. "Inform him we are accelerating the schedule, I do not wish to remain here any longer. Then locate Lancer T'Mari and inform her that I wish to enact the tertiary fallback plan after we depart. If any members of the House or the government question our actions, have them present the fabricated evidence that House Wassitok is preparing to move to the Rim before us."

Her small brown eyes blinked rapidly as she offered me my robe. "The... tertiary plan, lady? Are you certain?"

"Quite" I replied, pulling the cloth over my wet body. "I have given the Hegemony everything... and I intend to be repaid with interest before I depart for home. And take that ridiculous collar off, there is no point to it anymore. Tell the others to do the same, and that they are officially Blades employees as of the last hour."

Bria stared at me in something like shock before a vicious little smile appeared, and her little eyes lit with unreadable emotion. "If I may make a final request, as your servant, would the fourth emergency plan not send a... suitable message?"

I felt my lips curl slightly. "It would... wouldn't it?"

* * *

 _And an old friend makes her choice._

 ** _ **Please read and review, criticism is welcome, flames not so much, as usual. Reviews are my lifeblood as a writer.. every-time my email goes off with a review it makes me want to write more, so please take the time to leave one. Guests can leave them as well, and it only takes a minute, so please. Even if it's as simple as "I enjoyed it, please continue."**_**

 _ _ **Thanks, Kat**__


	4. Hell, Promised

I don't own the Mass Effect.

* * *

 _ **Hell, Promised**_

( _Sam Govender)_

 **Date** : 12-01-2187

 **Location:** Illium Minor, Omega, Sahrabarik System, Terminus

* * *

This wasn't the stupidest mission I'd ever been on, or even the riskiest. A lot of thought and planning had been put into it, to ensure we had every possible chance to not only arrive on station, but safely get into the ruthlessly protected district that held our objective. With a bit of luck, our plans to get back out would go just as well.

The problems lay not in the _depth_ of the preparation, but rather the condensed time it had happened in. Everything had been thrown together quick, fast, and in a hurry, and if I'd learned anything in my long career as a spy, that combination always lead to problems. This mission shouldn't have taken place for another four or five months, but the mess at Horizon had sent the higher ups in such a frenzy that they'd decided the risks were worth it.

Nice of them, considering _we_ were the ones sticking our fucking necks out on goddamned Omega.

"Mercenaries, Soldiers, Pirates, to the right." An Asari in the kaleidoscopic armor of the Tersatani gang shouted from her place atop a guard tower, "Line up at lift four! Have your payment ready and read the fucking rules! Residents from Calla, head to lift one! Be ready to show your..."

I tuned out the repetition, it was her third go through of the same orders, dividing everyone up into neat groups that were easier to deal with thanks to the security precautions they were putting the crowd through. Even without the lines it was easy for my trained eyes to notice who was a local and who wasn't, just from the amount of agitation and bitching coming from the people clearly not used to this kind of treatment on Omega.

Thankfully the squint ahead of me in line wasn't such a person, and he breezed through the checkpoint quickly enough, letting me step forwards to something like a small kiosk sitting in front of the elevator.

"Helmet off." A battle-scarred Asari regarded me with one good eye, the other entirely rheumy and white. Her war-paint was as bright and harlequin-esque as her ridiculous armor, which made her a bit of an eyesore to look at. "Weapons beside that pistol?"

"No." I replied, carefully reaching up and pulling the battered black shell off my head, revealing my bearded African features. "I read the rules before I came."

She gave me an almost masculine grunt, "Good for you, you still get your ass scanned like everyone else. Freelance or Org?"

"Freelance." That was the thing that had me on edge the most right now. Freelancers received more scrutiny at the initial security step, though less so once they got inside... at least, that was true according to an Agent who hadn't been in contact with us for nearly a month now. In either case, I hadn't wanted to risk it, telling both of the other members of my team to come in fifteen minute intervals, and ensured that our armor and equipment differed wildly.

"Right. Twenty five credits for solo entrance, another fifty for going up armed. You got anything you want to check? No? Fine." She made a motion to another member of the gang, this one's face sensibly protected by a helmet painted half neon-blue, half-raging pink. "Stand still."

I did so as the other woman stepped forwards, a heavy scanner in one hand, a pistol pointed at my right eye in her other. She walked carefully around me, checking over every inch of my body despite the time it took. For my part, I affected a bored expression despite my instincts twinging when she vanished behind me. I didn't quite relax when she came around my other side, but the urge to grab my pistol faded slightly.

The Matron glanced at the scanner as the other guard stepped back, grunting again as she saw its readout. "Class four armor is another fifty. Chits only."

Making sure not to move quickly, I pulled out a pair totaling the required payment and handed it over. She checked them, nodded once, and then pulled out a small token for me. "Keep this on you at all times, its your visitor ID. They catch you without it and you won't fucking like what happens. Next!"

Replacing my helmet, I breathed the recycled air a little easier than the sickly sweet smell that pervaded the station. Stepping past the kiosk, I found the lift open and waiting, seven other mercenaries from various species waiting impatiently inside. Yet another gang member waved me inside, did a quick head count, then stepped inside and closed the door. Shooing a Tuiran out of her way, she used an honest to god physical _key_ to unlock the thing, thumbing a button as she kept her wrist twisted.

"You'll be dropped off on the main deck of Doru." Her voice was younger than the others had been, probably a maiden being given the less dangerous job to break her in. "Always obey the signs, do not approach areas clearly marked as military property. Any attempt to approach the anti-air defenses or the outer wall will be met with lethal force with zero warnings."

"We get it girl." The same squint who'd been ahead of my grunted through his helmet, "Where are the best whores?"

"The Neutron Flare is the highest rated brothel in Illium Minor." From the speed she replied, it wasn't an uncommon question. "Turn right down main street and walk for five blocks, you can't miss it."

I cleared my throat, speaking up now that someone else had interrupted her. "Is that near the Ghofan Hotel?"

She shook her head, "The Ghofan is one block to the left after we arrive, it is the second rated hotel, and is proud to offer an extremely wide variety of amenities."

"Drugs?" Someone else guessed.

"Provided you sign the appropriate paperwork, the staff will be more than happy to acquire whatever substances you may desire, or whatever company you may wish."

That was all the time we had for questions, because the gentle sensation of movement slowed, then stopped as we reached our destination. The doors swung open, I stepped out, and... found myself behind yet _another_ line, this one streaming away from the numerous lifts and into the street ahead. This one was at least moving in good order, with a second line off to the left clearly filled with beings ready to take the same lifts back down, both halves of the street loomed over by five story buildings with some kind of awning blocking the view above us.

But unlike downstairs, the guards here were locals, their dour navy and silver armor uniform and clearly well cared for. They didn't shout so much as they simply motioned and pointed, and they head the means of people carrying on private conversations over radios while they worked. A glance upwards confirmed the reason for their evident relaxation; my eyes picked out the shrouded forms of snipers and nested machine guns waiting to turn this entire street into a charnel house if anyone tried something.

We went through a final scanner one at a time, something like an antique metal detector, but if I had to guess it was actually something intended to detect the rough neural laces commonly forced onto slaves.

After that, we were free to disperse into what was becoming _the_ resort city of the Terminus systems. Towering buildings stretched upwards on every side of me, many lit up with neon signs, others going for a more elegant look, all loomed over by Omega's expansive core. The red lights from Afterlife and the towering arcology it was perched on rather ruined the effect, in my opinion, making everything seem more sinister and oppressive, cutting away the glitz and glamor.

Following the lift attendant's instructions, I turned left at what was apparently the main street, plunging into the crowd.

I found the hotel in short order, and the staff were all too happy to point me to the bar on the ground floor. It was only mildly crowded despite the swarm of people outside, and the Asari waitress was all too happy to tell me it was in the middle of 'second shift', which was a slower time of the day. Considering how many elbows I'd had to throw just to cross the street to get in here, I wondered what they thought of as 'busy'. Sill, I thanked her, removed my helmet, ordered a beer, and then settled back to wait.

Agent Calypso found me in short order, and proved to be an Asian woman approaching middle age. I would have called her features classically striking if not for the overlong ponytail that she's wrapped around her own neck, and the shirt and shorts she was wearing revealed that she joined the local customs in not shaving the remainder of her body. More important then minor revulsion I felt at such things was the slim little pistol on her belt, and the knife openly strapped to her left ankle.

Then again, I was pretty sure the waitress had a gun in her bra, and even a casual glance revealed that everyone in the bar had at _least_ a pistol and a bladed weapon of some form.

"You," The only AIS spy I knew of on Omega informed me as she sat down, her English smooth and unaccented. "Of course it's you. You need to get lost, this isn't the time to be asking for favors."

"I'm afraid we're here to stay." I replied quietly, "We're your friends, we need your help... and you owe us for that barfight we pulled you out of."

Her lips started to twist, then curled into a smile as the waitress returned with a green bottle for me. "A second, please?"

"Of course ma'am." The maiden vanished as quickly as she'd come, heading back towards the bar.

"You don't understand." She informed me a few seconds later, "You _can't_ stay here. They don't accept new migrants anymore, the place is packed to capacity. There's nothing that I can do, you'll just have to hang on to those favors for another day."

That I could believe from the throngs outside. Not all of them could be visitors, not at the outrageous entrance price. "You going to just throw me out, not even give me the courtesy of a hot meal?"

Her hand rose and rubbed at her forehead, the exasperation not all faked. "I... fine, fine. Dinner at my place, for old times sake. Who else is here?"

"Karim and Alice." I supplied, glancing up as the waitress returned with a second beer. The Agent took it, had her put the cost on her room's tab, and then the pair of us settled in to wait for the others.

Alice arrived first, the lithe little woman taking the seat beside me. "This place is something, isn't it?"

"It's something." I repeated, my tone light, as a mercenaries' would have been when discussing the place. "The drug dens in particular are supposed to cater to anything you want if you've got the cash."

Small hands rose to pull her helmet away, revealing long... well, long for Terran fashion, blonde hair done up in a little bun, pale skin and blue eyes giving me a smile as she batted her eyes at me before turning to the Agent. "Good to see you again."

Taking a swig of my beer, I only half listened to the conversation that followed, translating her blinks from code into words. She'd gotten through just fine, and hadn't noticed anyone following her. That much was good, but my experienced eyes told me it wasn't the whole story. She was visibly tense and nervous despite her banter, and it made me want to curse tiredly. This was only her second year, she wasn't ready for _this_ level of engagement... but leaving her on the ship would have been just as bad.

Any long distance call on Omega was anything but private, every intelligence service learned that as quickly as they lost agents here.

Our third member arrived twenty minutes later, Karim making my eyes narrow as I saw blood splattered on his right leg. He waved off any questions in favor of nudging the spy deeper into the booth and collapsing in her place. He'd hardly done so before he grabbed my beer without so much as a request, taking his helmet off to reveal his Mediterranean features.

Calypso glanced at his leg, "Yours?"

He gasped as he drained the bottle, setting it aside, "Nah. Some gang kid tried to sneak a shotgun through lift security, Asari shot him to pieces the moment the scanner lit up."

The woman winced. "Yeah, happens sometimes. Idiots putting each other up on dares, or the gangs who hate the SBC trying to sneak someone in. Come on, I'm starving, and the sooner I get food in you three the sooner we can talk about that favor."

While Karim groaned at the notion of getting up right away, he still did so, the three of us following her back into the hotel foyer and into an elevator. Nothing was said during the ride to the eighteenth floor, nor when we arrived at room eighteen-fourteen. The interior proved to be surprisingly cozy, likely proving that Calypso was doing well for herself monetarily. Bypassing the small kitchenette, she waved us into the living room proper while she did a few sensible security checks around the room, making sure no one had put in devices while she was away.

I, meanwhile, setup a white noise generator on her coffee table, gently nudging a tiny zen garden a little to one side to make room before inspecting her abode more thoroughly. The carpeting was clean, though had enough depressions to make me think she had re-arranged recently. The door that presumably lead to her bedroom was just behind me and to my right, and was cracked enough to let me see an unlit bathroom, though the door's angle blocked anything else.

"Do you have any idea how risky this is?" Calypso demanded the moment her checks and my device were online. "I'm not the kind of person who hosts freelance mercs at her place for dinner. Are you _trying_ to blow me cover and get me killed?"

I narrowed my eyes at her, "I think you need to watch your tone, Agent."

Lips pulled back from her teeth, but she buckled under and forced pseudo-polite words out instead of whatever she actually wanted to say. "What is your assignment?"

"We are to provide you with back up, to establish a wider network, and to ensure a _steady_ flow of information regarding the SBC's actions, capabilities, and goals." I informed her shortly. "I have been given command of the new cell. I'm going to need your cover name, temporary housing, and the information required to live here."

"Oh Jesus..." Her hand rose and rubbed at her nose, "That's impossible, or at least impractical. I wasn't bullshitting when I said you can't live here."

I tapped a finger on the couch's armrest. "Explain."

She was clearly not thrilled at my presumptive tone, she'd been away from proper authority too long which was always a risk with spies, but she did so, "I told you migration was closed. No one new is allowed to live within Illium Minor unless you're in the military. They keep track of visitors with those tokens, and residents with implants. They catch you without either and you get to leave via an airlock unless you have a _very_ good excuse."

Karim grunted, "What kind of excuse?"

"Saw them spare a few kids who stumbled out of the warrens, since they didn't intend to end up here. Slaves who manage to slip in are freed, get their hardware yanked, and are usually allowed to stay." A shrug, "But tourists like you get about a week before they start wondering why you're still here, and the Tersatani will have already uploaded your pictures and token codes to the Admin database."

I frowned, considering her emotion and deciding that she was being entirely honest. "Options? Can we acquire those implants?"

"I don't see how, I'm a casino manager, not a high raking officer in the Administrative offices." Her head shook, "You hear rumors of people who try to cheat the system, try to hack things to reset their arrival date, it... doesn't end well."

Of course it didn't. The Blades had ample motivation to ensure that their system seemed, if not impossible to circumvent, then so risky as to not be worth the try. And the system itself seemed simple enough. Given everyone an identification code, note when they had arrived, attach a photograph and scan data taken from the gang to it. Most businesses probably had scanners of their own to pick up the codes, likely flagging those who had been here a bit too long, and forwarding those to the mercenaries so that they could track their movements.

"Control freaks much?" Alice muttered, her quick mind already on the same track. "What kind of tin pot dictatorship are they running?"

"The ruthless, oligarchic kind." Calypso replied, "Remember the people who run the SBC probably think of Hegemon Morth'ik and Vlad Tepes as ideal role models. You want to know their punishments for crimes? Death."

We all waited for a few moments, then realized there wasn't anything else. Alice winced. "Even for minor things?"

The agent shrugged, "Define 'minor things'. Anything short of rape, slavery, or unjustified murder is usually legal, so long as you've got the right paperwork filled out or the right excuse to explain why you did what you did. They might throw you in a pen to let you cool off if you're a belligerent drunk, but there isn't a record, they just toss you a night's rent and toss you back out once you're sober."

Karim shook his head, "And they execute the rest?"

"Pretty much." Her lips pressed together. "And that includes the four of us if you don't get out of here."

"We're staying." I informed her shortly. "Give me solutions."

Calypso twisted her mouth, but Alice spoke up, the rookie clearly hoping to avoid an argument, "Traveling workers?"

"Aren't any." The other woman shook her head, "They had a system for that for a while, but shut it down once they had enough people. Too many spies were using it to wander around. You... _could_ probably find somewhere else on station to live. Maybe in Fumi or Doru. We could still communicate via dead drops fairly reliably, if we're careful about it."

I narrowed my eyes at the shift to her tones, but also considered the idea. "How often?"

"Maybe twice a month, if you come alone and in irregular patterns." She offered, "If you give me a few weeks I might be able to check with the regular customers at the casino, see how often they come in and out."

"You mean," Karim frowned at her, "You haven't already?"

"I've been a little more focused on learning the local government, identifying the key oligarchs, and trying to stay up to date on local politics." She sniped back. "I'm lucky I haven't been fired since I'm usually dead on my feet at work."

When he opened his mouth again, I lifted a hand cut him off, "Karim, not now. Calypso, that is the correct focus, but why haven't you been sending information out? You're more than a month past due, and all we have are the basic layout and how we could enter this place."

She winced. "Their shipping schedule has changed entirely over the past few weeks, the Captain I was using to get data out is now on the Redcliffe trade run. I've been sounding out a replacement, but..."

But that was something that had to be done with exquisite care if she didn't want to be revealed and killed. "Understood. Our base intelligence has the SBC as a full military dictatorship, run by Kean, but you're calling it an oligarchy. Explain."

There was a nod, and she finally shifted around to take the remaining chair, settling into it. "On paper, Kean is the Director, and I guess you'd call him the absolute dictator over the SBC and the territory they run. In reality, he supposedly got no real feel for government, logistics, or even naval matters... so he delegates it all to a handful of people he trusts."

At a nod from me, both Alice and Karim took out encrypted data pads and started taking notes. We received the name of the 'administrator' and his own immediate circle of subordinates, the Asari pirate turned admiral who was in command out in the traverse, and the names of the 'executives' who were in command on Xentha, Redcliffe, Illium, and here on Omega. That last was Ayle ul Massa, one of the former co-leaders, and was supposedly being prepped to either take over, be the heir, or switch places with Kean, Calypso wasn't sure. Given her limited position, Calypso wasn't entirely sure how many critical figures there were in the organization, but her best guess was around a dozen.

We took a very short break around then for her to offer us drinks, and when we declined, she rose anyway to pour herself a bourbon. I noted the extensive variety of spirits in her pantry as she did, but it wasn't until she went to pour that little things started to go together. I closed my eyes, then turned a little to my right and opened them again.

The door to her bedroom was now entirely open.

Karim, meanwhile, continued with his usual focus, not noticing my abrupt exhaustion. "Do you have a better grasp on their societal makeup, how are they setting everything up?"

"They're making Batarian society palatable for outsiders." Came the reply, the words punctuated by a long pull from her glass, "Instead of a ranking system at birth, they have a kind of three tiered minimum wage setup. Certain jobs qualify for certain tiers, and each one is based on the cost of rent plus an escalating percentage based on the tier."

"Oh." Alice shook her head, as though realizing something. "That's part of why people actually like them, isn't it? I can't imagine that the gangs or other warlords would even understand something like a living wage."

"Yeah." Calypso nodded as she returned, settling back into her chair. I started to try and shift my hand towards my right hip, where my pistol was, then froze as I felt invisible steel pointedly rest itself against my carotid artery. "They're not at all popular with what you'd call the middle and upper classes out here, the kind of people who seriously believe in the anarchy and freedom, and only barely tolerate Aria's one rule. But to the slaves, and the starving people living in the gutter? Promise them that they'll wake up tomorrow, have an apartment, have food, and spending cash? There's a reason this place is crowded to hell."

"I guess I can see that." Alice sighed, "Liberty and justice don't mean as much when you're biggest concern is where your next meal will be... What else do we need to know Karim? Boss, you all right?"

"No." I replied quietly. "Calypso... when, and what?"

The middle aged woman stared at me, her brown eyes unblinking before she shook her head and took a massive gulp of her spirits. "What do you mean?"

"You know." I shook my head as much as I dared.

Her glass lowered somewhat, and she exhaled. "My life, in exchange for knowledge, cooperation... and help training."

Karim reacted at once, or at least tried to. He started to surge out of his seat, hands blurring for his weapons, then hissed in agony as he was dragged back down by a blur lunging over the back of the couch. The struggling ceased altogether in time with the loud hiss of a hypodermic needle, the agent going slack as some form of paralytic took hold.

The rookie was slower, not as experienced. She tried to rise as her brain caught up to what her eyes were telling her, only for her blue eyes to widen in horror as her head was jerked to the right, her left leg twitching twice as she slumped backwards.

I did nothing, knowing the game was already over.

Around the room there was the tell-tale shifting as active camouflage systems adjusted to their users movements, letting me count four figures in total emerging from the bedroom. Including the one still behind me, and behind the others, that made seven. The ripples began as they allowed themselves to become entirely visible, revealing a host of Asari.

Most were in a strangely plain outfit. They wore skin-tight jumpsuits beneath light armor, both colored entirely black. Their helmets lacked visors, creating a purposefully unsettling visage, and the only marker on their armor was a silver outline of a black heart, pierced by crossed blades on their left shoulders. In addition to the pistol and a sword that each bore, they also had a host of small knives, vials, and other tools of assassination on their belts.

The solo exception revealed herself in golden armor, the Eclipse born proudly across her stomach, and she was the only one to remove her helmet. An Asari matron with no markings, but shockingly blue-green eyes smiled at me as she stood beside Calypso, an armored hand falling to the woman's shoulder. For her part, the ex-agent look tired, but resolved, and didn't so much as flinch at the touch.

"Observant." She offered, her voice carrying the tell-tale sharp accent of Illium. "How?"

I sighed, "The carpeting is clean, too clean considering she didn't remove her boots. You installed it recently to cover footsteps. There's depressions where the furniture has been, you've been moving it around to test positioning. Her emotions were another thing, but the last piece was the bourbon. It was nearly empty and her cabinet was full of bottles that I presume are also vacant. Sign of a guilty conscious."

The Asari smiled at me, "An experienced agent, I see. What did you mistake it for?"

"Nerves and irritation." I shrugged carefully, feeling a hypo being pressed against the other side of my neck, though the user held off on injecting me. "I've done the solo agent thing, it's always unpleasant to have to obey orders again, especially when a bunch of new idiots show up and tell you haven't been doing good enough."

"Mmm." She hummed. "Interesting... but as much as I would like to talk field craft with another veteran, I can't afford you killing yourself."

"I would have already done so if that was my intent." I informed her shortly. Which was a partial truth, I did intend to end my life before I could give up even the most basic of Alliance secrets, but that would come later. "I wish to negotiate."

Her smile turned vulpine. "You are in a poor position to do so."

"Yes." I admitted. "I wish for an exchange. I will not kill myself now, in exchange for you allowing Alice to return. She is a rookie on her first major operation, and knows nothing of importance."

The Eclipse woman cocked her head a bit to the right, "Not much of a deal, considering what she could bring back as it is. She can see me and ourselves, know that the Blades are training their own Night Whisperers, and would also bring news of little Odori's betrayal."

I exhaled, "She would carry whatever declaration you wished, any overtures or demands, and the news that you took us out to handily will make them reconsider acting against you. That would be worth her life."

She regarded me for a few seconds, then glanced to the blank-faced assassin to her immediate right. "It is your mission, little one. I am here to advise and train, not set policy."

Nearly three minutes of utter silence followed, only the slightest shifting of helmets telling me that they were debating the subject across a private line. That, plus the Eclipse's words, told me more. This was a training mission for them, a low-risk entrapment buoyed by the use of an inside agent. The AIS had run me through similar such things, though never in the field like this, they wouldn't have risked lives over a mistake.

The SBC clearly didn't have such qualms.

Their response came as a hiss, and an abrupt numbness flooding my limbs. My reflexive shift to remove the false tooth over my lullaby came to nothing as I lost the ability to feel anything, only able to hear my body's suddenly labored breathing.

"They apologize, but must reject your offer." The Eclipse informed me, smiling as the others began to move around and grab limbs, preparing to haul us out like cargo. "They don't believe you won't try and find a way to kill yourself even after they remove whatever poison you have hiddne away, and they would prefer your employer suffer the uncertainty of your entire team's disappearance."

Dammit... I could even blink, but I could see Alice out of the corner of my eyes. The rookie's blue orbs remained entirely wide, but a tear was already working down one side of her face. She would break the moment they started, and when my words about her lack of knowledge proved prophetic, she would be executed... or worse.

The Eclipse woman noticed as well, smiling as she walked over and patted the girl on the cheek. "Don't worry, you won't be killed immediately even if you don't know anything. I need live prisoners to test meld interrogation techniques you see, and it doesn't have to be your precious AIS secrets that we go after. Any hidden memory will do..."

Very real fear broke through the calm I'd managed to pull together in my mind, my brain flailing in desperation as I tried to regain any control over my body. All of the willpower in the world would be meaningless against experienced Asari interrogator shifting around inside my head... but this was worse. We would be melded with and mind raped repeatedly by what were probably maidens, and I'd heard horror stories of what could happen when the young aliens tried things too advanced for their undeveloped talents.

"If you're still sane at the end," She continued, obviously aware of our horror. "We'll give you the courtesy of a bullet. It's the least we can do."

* * *

 _This was going to be Balak, and then Rane, and then Balak again before this scene kind of worked its way into my head and wouldn't leave. We get a tiny glimpse into how the Blades run their civilian affairs, and a bit of a peak at the Asari Trena and her cousin are training._

 ** _ **Please read and review, criticism is welcome, flames not so much, as usual. Reviews are my lifeblood as a writer.. every-time my email goes off with a review it makes me want to write more, so please take the time to leave one. Guests can leave them as well, and it only takes a minute, so please. Even if it's as simple as "I enjoyed it, please continue."**_**

 _ _ **Thanks, Kat**__


	5. Howling Wolves

I don't own the Mass Effect.

* * *

 **Howling Wolves**

 _(Yvette Karnowski)_

 **Date:** 12-11-2187

 **Location:** White Tiger Enclave, Lower Doru, Omega, Sahrabarik System

* * *

I stared at the flickering map of Omega, our old holoprojector struggling to keep the image clear and precise. A white box marked our turf, hidden away in lower Doru... it wasn't much, but it was more than what it had been just a couple of months ago. And, more importantly, it was actually _ours_ , true and free, not like that bitch Khan's cage in Fumi.

 _She_ might have rolled over and spread her legs for that squint lover, might have chosen to forget our Alpha's memory, but we would never submit. We would never forget Leonard Bern, what he had done for us, what he'd taught us. Never forget that they'd let him die in that final battle of the war, forced him to fight against Ganar when he'd had no need or desire to be there, when _we_ had needed him the most.

And then the squints and their fucktoys had killed us for _practice._

"The Eighty-Eights are in." Gregori smirked as he joined me in looking at the map, his exotic accent placing light emphasis on his words. "We're getting close."

I hummed, glancing at our new Alpha. Tall, pale, and lean, he cut a dangerous edge that I liked, especially in the polished silver armor he wore... plus the old-school mustache that made him look like the knight that he was. "I still don't like that we aren't fighting the squints straight up."

He sighed, "Yvette, we've been over this. Squints are most dangerous when they've got walls to hide behind, we've got to draw them out, take out their allies... then we hunt them and tear them apart on our terms."

"I know, I know." I sighed, brushing a few strands of blonde hair out of my eyes, "I said I didn't like it, not that I didn't get it."

"Don't worry," He reached up and gently clapped me on the shoulder, "The time will come. We've got nearly a hundred members in the pack now, and after we take the Tersatani hundreds more will want to join us."

That made me grumble again, partly for show, partly because I wanted him to touch me a bit more than just on the shoulder. Not that he would, he was very firm on not getting involved with anyone, not until we were more stable... until then all of him would be dedicated to the cause. It was noble, and I admired it... and the fact that I'd seen him turn down at least two other girls had helped ease the sting of my own rejection.

Greg's plan was as simple as it was clever. Everyone down here knew that those tie-dyed bitches in the Tersatani were rolling in cash thanks to their control of the lifts going up to Illium Minor, and finding a bunch of allies to try and take a few of those gates for ourselves hadn't been hard. So far as the other gangs knew, our goal was to do it quick and quiet, and before the Blades could seriously object. Especially when we kept sending people on up as the current owners were doing.

 _We_ knew better though. Those squints and the morons who liked them would never take even a minor attack on their authority lying down. They'd come after us to defend their allies, and that would be our chance to fight them on our terms, to _prove_ those arrogant assholes could be beaten. That would draw us more recruits, fill our ranks with Humans, Asari, and Turians who hated them as much as we did, who just needed a reason to _believe_ that they could be beaten.

The door to our little command post rattled open, ruining my dreams of seeing blue clad forms dead on the ground around me, allowing Hank to the enter the room. Hank, unlike Gregori, was _not_ pleasant to look at. He had a thick, strong build, and I knew he was jacked, but his love of beer meant that his gut hung grotesquely over his belt. Worse, he thought even simple showers were beneath him, so his black beard and hair were slick with grease, and whatever handsomeness his strong face might have given him was ruined by his permanently bloodshot eyes.

"Yo, boss, pale-sexy-bitch." Hank rumbled, the nickname and lecherous expression making me twitch. "What's happening?"

"Reviewing the battle plan." Our Alpha replied, "And _you_ are two hours late, I already briefed the other pack leaders. Yvette remained behind to discuss our follow-up options."

The slime rolled his eyes, "You mean the bitch was trying to get into your pants again."

I opened my mouth to snarl at him, only for Greg to hold up a hand, his accent thickening as he got angry " _Hank._ You're the leader of one of our largest packs, where the fuck were you? Tell me you weren't off with that goddamned Asari again."

"Not my fault I've got a sexy blue ass who wants me." Came the retort, "And this was just a review, said so yourself. I know the damn plan and it's not like I missed the _real_ pre-battle briefing."

I shook my head, "I still don't like that woman."

Hank flicked his beady eyes at me, "Jealous much? Not that I can blame you, Nula is sexy as hell."

"Hardly." I scoffed, "She's five feet tall and flat as a board... but even so, what the fuck does she see in a ball of fat like you?"

That made his features contort in rage, knuckles popping as fists clenched. He took a hard step towards me, then froze as he noticed that one of my hands had fallen to my pistol. His own twitched towards the short-barreled shotguns on his waist, then stopped as Gregori stepped between us, punching spikes extending from his armor with harsh clangs as he snapped. "Enough! Both of you!"

I flinched a little, letting go of the weapon as Hank reversed direction, stepping back and pointedly spreading his arms away from his chest.

"I tolerate your rivalry because it keeps you both sharp," He spoke between clenched teeth, "And it keeps your packs ready to fight, but by God you _will not_ let things progress to actual violence. You're both good, fine leaders, but neither of you is irreplaceable. Remember that."

Shame and anger made me shift uncomfortably, but I forced the words out, "I'm sorry sir, I will keep my thoughts on Hank's... _girlfriend_ to myself."

Greg nodded slightly, then turned his attention entirely to Hank. He needed a bit longer, but he managed to bite out, "...sorry boss. Will stop baiting the bitch if she does the same."

Our leader considered that, glanced between us once more, then relaxed his hands in a quick motion, the heavy spikes retracting back into the forearm plates of his armor with quiet whirs of sound.

"All right." He spoke again, stepping backwards slowly, as if wanting to make sure we weren't going to draw on one another as soon as he was out of the way. "Get your ass over here, we still have shit to go over."

Hank did so without saying anything else, the three of us taking up positions around the flickering image. Our target was the lift entrance on level twenty nine, one floor up from our place at the bottom of Doru, and the actual plan wasn't all that complicated. It was hardly a busy gate, people down this far couldn't afford the fucking entrance tickets much less anything up on the top level. My girls and I had been scoping the place out for the last couple of weeks and we'd never seen more than a dozen Asari gangsters.

We'd be hitting them with all eight packs, nearly a hundred Tigers.

The fat asshole regarded the image, grunted, then leaned in, "I still think this shop is the best spot for my boys. Three stories, good angle on the lifts and the side street, we can shit on anyone coming out of either."

Gregori exhaled, reaching up to rub at his chin, "If shit goes badly you don't have any way to get out of there though."

"Then we'd better fucking win, shouldn't we?" Hank replied, waving a hand. As much as I hated the fucker, he was good at planning out missions, better even that Greg... which is why the Alpha tolerated the rest of him. "Put Conrad and Nikos right on the wall, they can hold onto the lifts easy enough with us backin' 'em. Bi... Yvette, where your people goin?"

I narrowed my eyes, but a look from our leader made me ignore what he'd almost said. "Figured we'd be best near any of the aircar shafts, we can harass anyone trying to use those to come after us."

He considered that, grunted like the pig he was once again, then pointed at one in particular. "That one. Probably the one they'd use first. Stay back though, bastards might decide to crash a couple to free up space and kill anyone waiting too close, fuckers did that enough last time around."

A sharp breath made me chest move a bit, a few memories coming back. Hacked aircars, their engines screaming from being overloaded, slamming into defensive positions at high speed. Men and women dying... then the harsh cracks of slow-firing carbines, and an implacable advance of dark figures.

"We'll stay back." I shook off the old fear, swallowed, then leaned in as well and did my best to ignore the disgusting mix of sweat, booze, and sex that Hank reeked of. "...here, and here. These alleys link into that bit of the warrens we found. We'll catch them in a crossfire, hold as long as we can, then pull back and come out in the apartments."

Greg nodded firmly in approval. "From there you can watch the main street, or even go up to the roofs to keep playing tag with them. Hank, where do you think the second most likely drop zone would be? We can send Akia's pack to that one."

The man rubbed at his chin through his wild beard, eyes flickering left and right before settling on an area closer towards the station's center. "Probably-"

Just as he was about to point, the power went out.

I blinked in the darkness, irritably spinning my old omni-tool up to life. Orange light spilled out from my wrist, and from Hank's. Gregori had cheated, simply pulling his helmet on and using its systems to see. It made me more than a little jealous, even if I'd been in my armor and had my helmet it wouldn't have helped me any. But then again I hadn't chased down the freelance merc who'd raped my sister, killed him, and then taken his gear for myself like he had.

"Jonas." Greg spoke aloud, already on the radio, setting his helmet's speakers so we could hear both sides of the conversation. "What the hell?"

Static answered him.

"Jonas?" He repeated, "Sidney? Anyone in maintenance?"

More static, then something that might have been a shuffle, then a click as the signal was killed at the other end.

I blinked, "What the hell is-"

"Weapons." He cut me off, his voice turning harsh. Starting a little, I drew my pistol as Hank pulled out one of his shotguns, the pair of us watching as Gregori stabbed commands into his omni-tool before cursing. "The general alarm's been disabled too, shit. We're under attack by somebody."

I needed a moment to get that to register, so did Hank, his voice coming out confused, "...the fuck? The Wave after us for something?"

"We'll find out." Gregori snapped, "Move your asses."

The verbal kick in the ass got us moving, the pair of us following the Alpha to the door. A few stabs confirmed that some power was still going, the door groaning as it slid aside. That made me worry more as I thought about it... they hadn't actually killed our access to the station's reactors, they'd just shut down the lights, communications, and probably everything besides the doors. I had no idea how that was possible, and that scared me more than I wanted to admit.

More omni-tools lit up the hallway, Tigers of Gregori's personal pack emerging from their rooms to see what the hell was going on. Their voices were higher than normal, tinged with confusion and fear. Our Alpha got them into something like order, telling them to get to the check-points to see if the sentries were still in place, and grabbed a pair of runners to track down the people we had patrolling our turf after confirming that our main radios were being jammed by something.

"Hank, your room is closer." Greg continued, his voice still strong and certain. "We'll get you into armor, grab your pack, and you can take them to our power conduit. Yvette and I will get her into gear, grab her women, and check the entrances to the warrens."

"Got it." Hank rumbled, while I merely nodded, not trusting my voice. We moved down the hall, hit the stairwell, and went up several flights to get to the next floor.

This floor was pitch black, and ominously silent. The only things I could hear were our footfalls, and my and Hank's labored breathing. I checked behind us often as we moved, the darkness feeling increasingly oppressive. The empty storage rooms and workshops that we carefully checked as we moved didn't help either, the limited glow from our omni-tools making crates and equipment suddenly loom ahead and around us.

My grip on my pistol tightened to something almost painful, and I had to force myself to keep my finger off the trigger before I accidentally shot someone. Between that, stopping myself from shaking, and the constant glances behind us, I didn't notice when we transitioned from our storage area to the next hallway over, where Hank's Pack had their apartments. When the two men abruptly stopped ahead of me, I didn't realize it quickly enough and all but ran into Gregori's armored body. He grunted a little but didn't fall over, throwing out his left hand to keep me upright.

"Sorry. " I breathed, glancing ahead and seeing nothing but walls and yet more darkness. "What is it? I don't see anything."

"Exactly." He replied softly. "Where's Hank's people? They should be up and around, demanding answers like mine."

...oh. I swallowed, the silence seeming to increase in volume now that he mentioned it, like a low, constant buzz that made my legs shake. I couldn't even hear the people below us getting their shit together... if anything _was_ up here with us, it could jump us and none of our people would hear us dying.

"Slowly, quietly." Greg continued, his voice dropping even more, but remaining cool, confident. "Hank, watch our backs. Yvette, want your pistol on my shoulder. You both all right?"

Hank shifted slightly but nodded, and I forced myself to do the same. The moment Gregori turned around again, I licked my lips, fought down a whimper, and hefted my little weapon up and followed as he began to very carefully move forwards, heading for the nearest room. The door was shadowed, but as the light from my omni-tool drew closer, it revealed it to already be open. Following his lead, I moved over, pressing my side into the wall as we crept on. He checked it with a quick glance, exhaled, told us both to wait and cover him, then slipped into the room.

For once I didn't feel the need to say anything as Hank drew closer, pressing his broad back against mine, his breathing more even that my own. That more than anything calmed me down a little, there was no fucking way I was going to let _him_ handle this better than me.

Dammit. I'd fought in the war against unending waves of Vorcha, backed up by giant Krogan... I'd survived the Blades coming down to hunt us. I could handle this. I could handle this. I could handle this. It was just darkness, just some lights that were out. I could handle this. This was just a bunch of punks playing with the lights, assholes trying to scare us, trying to make us panic. I could handle this.

"Find anything?" I whispered when Gregori returned, my little mantra still rolling through my head.

"They were killed in their kitchen." Came the low reply. "Blood all over the place, but there's no body."

Hank sucked in a slow breath, shifting his balance nervously, "Shit... this was Jen's room."

I thought of the twitchy little black woman, my mantra stumbling before I kept it going again. I could handle this. "Someone got the drop on _her_?"

"Looks like." Greg muttered. "Hank, your door?"

The man replied promptly. "Last on the left."

"Right, shit, no time to check them all..." He seemed inhale, "We need to backtrack, get reinforcements, get power."

Hank stirred a little, "Nula was over boss, I have to check on her."

I grimaced, "Hank, if Jen's gone, what chance would she have?"

"She's an Asari." He replied darkly, anger overcoming his own nerves. "Biotics and electrical sensing shit, remember? Besides, my armor is in there, won't be much good without some protection."

"Greg?" I demanded. "Being up here with just us is stupid, we should go back."

The Alpha exhaled sharply through his helmet, then tilted it. "She have gear?"

"Yeah," Hank blinked, "Why?"

Gregori seemed to glance at me, then he nodded. "It'll probably be tight as hell, but better than nothing."

I got what he meant, sucked in a breath, then nodded in turn. Armor. Armor would be good, even if I'd have a hard time breathing in the little whore's crap. It would help, it would help a lot.

"Right, same formation." He spread his feet, balancing himself, "Come on."

The short walk down the hallway was awful even against the walk in the silent blackness. Not all of Hanks' people had died deep in their places, some had been at or near the doors, letting us see plenty of blood all over the place. The worst was one about halfway there, red droplets dripping from the ceiling not more than a meter inside the apartment. I wasn't a stranger to killing people, or seeing people die, but that was almost always done with guns.

Bang, thump, over. Sometimes screaming, sometimes you saw things you'd rather not... but not like this... and there weren't even _bodies._ This was more like something out of a bad horror vid, the only things missing were the crucified bodies left as examples. No sooner had we thought that then we passed a room about halfway to Hank's, and found Vladimir's body slumped over in a kitchen chair, facing the doorway. Or... he would have been facing us if he'd still had a head, the only reason I could tell it was him was because of the tattoos on his bare chest.

Oh _God..._ No, no, I could handle this.

Greg had called a halt, moved into the room while Hank and I stayed on guard, then returned. "Wound is cauterized... one of those Asari eezo-swords."

I swallowed, looked at what was left the man, and couldn't stop a whimper as I jerked my eyes away again. It was probably a bad sign that Hank didn't even comment on the weakness, "M-meaning?"

"An elite Wave cabal, Blade Lancers, or Aria's huntresses." Greg's own confidence seemed to falter before he shook himself, as if realizing that we were only barely keeping it together. "Let's pick up the pace, they _want_ to unsettle us with this shit, we're not going to let them. We'll get you two into armor, find the assholes who did this, and kill them."

I swallowed, nodding sharply as Hank did the same, both of us murmuring. "Yes sir."

I could handle this.

We moved on more quickly, not so much as glancing in the remaining rooms as we moved past. Or at least I didn't, if I saw another body I felt like I'd lose control and bolt back downstairs screaming as I did. As a result, I noticed at once that the door was actually closed. That made us all draw up short, then I fell back a bit, covering Gregori as crept forwards, tapping at the control panel, causing it to hiss open. He checked the corner, glanced around, then leaned back.

"Right, I'll stay on guard, Yvette, Hank get in and..." His voice trailed off, then became very quiet. "Oh shit."

I whipped my head around, expecting to see a rampaging monster or psychopath coming at us. Instead, I saw a whole lot of nothing.

Including a notable absence of the man who'd been following me not more than a few seconds ago.

"Hank?" I called softly, unable to stop myself, my pistol's barrel starting to sway wildly as I shook.

There was a quiet sound, maybe a muffled footstep, then nothing. My breathing began to accelerate as I fought back a panicked noise, staring at the blackness just beyond the soft glow of my omni-tool. Hank was a lecherous, fat, asshole... but he was smart, and strong, and something had taken him from a few feet behind me in utter silence.

Oh God.

Somewhere in the distance, the sound echoing harshly through the metal walls of our base, gunfire began to drum, the full automatic fire of someone panicking. That lasted for a couple of seconds before being replaced by what might have been a woman screaming at the top of her lungs... then silence fell once more.

Oh my _God_... what... what the...

I couldn't handle this.

"Yvette." Greg's spoke, his words slow and precise. "Back to command, we'll use the emergency exit there... Run as fast as you can run. I'll be right behind you. Go."

"I..."

"Run." He growled, shoving me from behind. "Run!"

I stumbled... then I ran.

My feet pounded as I raced back the direction we'd come, Greg followed hard on my heels. We moved past doorways, light playing over blood once more... and movement within at least one or two. I didn't even stop to look, panic and fear telling me that I wouldn't live long enough to see what they were.

Greg grunted, shifted a little as we passed the last door, then began shooting over his shoulder at something as we sprinted. He couldn't have been aiming at all, the part of me that was a pack leader noting that he was probably just trying to make whatever was back there think twice about coming after us. From the muted gunfire that began to buzz past us, they weren't cowed.

We flew past the workshops and storage rooms, the Alpha keeping his body between me and whatever was pursuing us. I thought more than a few had hit him, but his armor and shields held, letting us reach the stairs. I all but fell down them in my rush, barely noticing that he'd stayed at the top, sealing the door there and locking it... and then shooting the control panel to buy us a bit more time.

I regained my balance, taking the stairs two at a time, then slipped and _did_ fall on my ass thanks to a bunch of blue liquid at the bottom of the stairwell. My body slid out into the hall, my ass and back hurting like hell, and then I hit something soft. Shaking my head against the pain, I focused my eyes and found myself staring at one of our few Turian members.

He was very dead, his throat open to his reveal his spine.

Real panic set in around then, my legs flailing until I could get them beneath me. I nearly lost my grip on my pistol, some small part of me realizing it was the only chance I had of living, tightened my grip and got moving just as Greg came flying down the stairs in turn. He helped haul me upright, then froze as more gunfire sounded just ahead of us.

I jerked my head up, looking in time to see a Tiger illuminated by the flashes of his pistol at the far end of the hallway. He got off four shots, the last of which showed a dark blur hitting him, bearing him to the ground. The screaming began at once, high pitched sounds I wouldn't have imagined could come from a man's throat. Greg snarled in rage, settled his legs apart, and then opened fire with his pistol.

He must have hit something, because two glowing pinpricks of light appeared, two eyes staring at us before vanishing... the screaming abruptly stopped a second later.

"Cloaking..." Greg cursed as he stopped shooting "Yvette, move!"

I did, feeling my throat vibrate with whimpers as things clicked together. We hadn't seen anyone upstairs because they'd all been invisible, but they'd probably been there, watching us, smirking as we crept around right in front of them.

Stumbling into the command center, I forced my weak legs to carry me to the back corner where our emergency bolt hole was located. Gregori again closed and locked the door, then hurried to follow. He reached me just as I crouched down, jabbing a shaking thumb against the tiny button set into the floor. There was a quiet click before a hatch sprang open, revealing a ladder leading down into the warrens.

I didn't need his urging to holster my pistol, swing my legs into the tunnel, and start shimmying downwards as quickly as I could. It wasn't until I felt the cold bite of the metal bars that I realized how badly I was sweating, how clammy my hands were. I was about a meter from the bottom when there was a sharp _crack_ from high above, some kind of explosion that started me enough into letting go. I fell the short distance, managed to land on my feet before stumbling back against the sealed hatch leading to the warrens.

"Get the door open!" Gregori shouted down from his spot halfway down, moving as quickly as he could.

My legs were shaking, my hands were shaking, and that made it hard as hell to type out the pass code, but I managed it... and the dim light coming from the hallway beyond was almost blessedly welcome. I whimpered again and all but fell through the hatch, my free hand clutching at the wall to keep me upright as I waited for my leader.

He was just about at the bottom when gunfire abruptly began to snarl from somewhere up above, hammering at his head and shoulders. His shields took the shots as he flung himself off the ladder, hitting the ground, staggered, and then lunged for the hatch. I flattened myself against the wall to let him dive past, then slammed my palm against the button to slam it shut.

"Ar-are you ok?" I stammered.

"Yes... yes." He seemed to shake himself a little, "Ankle hurts like a bitch, but I'm alive."

Alive. We were alive, but everyone else... "We're... we're it, aren't we? Th-they'll have killed-"

"Yvette!" He snapped.

"-everyone else!" I whimpered, unable to stop the babble, my everything shaking. "H-hank, and Ana, and Vlad and-"

Gregori slapped me, hard. "Snap out of it!"

I yelped in pain, my back hitting the wall again, and I just stared at him in surprise.

"We are going to make it." He informed me, his accent thickening again. "They can't have gotten everyone, we'll find the outer patrols, we'll gather the other gangs, and we will avenge them. Do you understand."

"I..." I pushed him away, made it two steps, and then I just threw up all over the ground. It burned, stank, and made tears start to run from my eyes. Gregori cursed softly, grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to start walking. I kept retching, mostly getting the walls, but a bit of it got on my shoes.

"We're going to make it." He kept repeating. "We're going to avenge all of them. Whoever did this, we're going to kill them."

I tried to say something, tasted the bile in my mouth, and nearly threw up again as I frantically spat it out. Opening my mouth to try again, I was interrupted by a quiet beep from behind us. Greg all but threw me away as he spun, aiming his weapon at the door. It was still shut, but even as we watched the tiny console beeped again, flashing red.

Someone was trying access codes to unlock it.

This time I didn't need Gregori to give me the order, I turned, stumbled, and then started running as quickly as I could, my heart hammering in my chest. He followed right behind me, his helmet not letting me see if he was as scared as I was. No, he wouldn't be, not Greg, he was as confident as he was skilled, he'd pulled beaten survivors together before, he could do it again.

We'd reached the end of the first tunnel when a quiet chime sounded in the distance. I looked over my shoulder before I could help it, seeing the door open... and absolutely nothing on the other side. There might have been a ripple, like heat from a grill, but nothing else.

"It's through!' I gasped as we took the first left turn, following the little white scratches our scouts had left, marking the safe paths through the unstable network.

"I think it's Quarian." He replied, his breathing becoming labored, pained. "We can outrun it, just keep moving."

I glanced at him, my eyes wide as I realized he wasn't quite keeping up. "...Greg?"

"Just keep running!" The snarl made me gasp and turn away, but not before I saw the awkward way he was moving. Oh God, his ankle... he'd said it had hurt. He'd landed wrong, twisted something... Oh God.

"W-we can make it!" I stuttered, trying to believe it. "It's n-not far, we can make it."

"We can make it." He agreed, then snarled in pain, pushing himself harder. A moment later he caught up with me, his long legs pounding as we ran. "When we get out, we're going to head for Akia's Pack, they should-"

A rifle barked behind us, and Greg's left leg abruptly went out from under him. He hit the ground, tumbled, and my legs got caught his flailing arms, sending me down and rolling as well. Wicked, girlishly amused laughter came from behind us, echoing in the dim hallway. Scrambling, I grabbed Greg's shoulders, tried to heave him up as I stared backwards. I saw a dark form, wearing some kind of heavy coat wave an omni-tool... and then the lights went out.

All but for two tiny pricks of white light in the distance, the Quarian's eyes gleaming through its mask.

"Get up, get up, get up." I panted, trying to help him stand, activating my omni-tool to let me see him.

He batted my arms away, "Yvette... I can't run. Go."

I stared at him, stared at his leg. The wound was tiny, minor, a glancing cut that had only barely penetrated his armor. "That's nothing, you have to-"

"I was _barely_ running before." He snapped, heaving himself up, "Sure as hell am not going to manage it now. You _have_ to go! One of us has to make it!"

I whimpered, I couldn't lose Gregori, not like this, Not on top of everyone else. He was our Alpha, our pack leader, the one who'd kept us together. "Gregori, I... I-I'll stay, I'll hold it-"

"You don't have armor." His head shook as he took a limping step away from me, towards the thing taking its sweet time walking towards us. "Go, find Akia, find anyone you can. Go down...," His voice finally broke, and I heard his fear, "Go down to Gozu, rebuild the White Tigers. Avenge us. Whatever you do... avenge us."

"I..." I squeezed my eyes closed, took a step back, then couldn't keep moving. "Greg, ple-"

" _Go_ Yvette!" He snapped, throwing his pistol aside as the eyes vanished, flexing his hands to make the punching spikes extend once more. "Akia! Gozu! Avenge us! Go!"

My heart twisted and I felt tears run down my cheeks... and then I turned, and ran in the darkness.

The sound of combat started when I passed the next marker, steel ringing on steel, whoever it was had decided to meet him in close combat instead of just shooting him.

The first sound of pain came a minute later, just as I reached the next marker, the second turn.

Gregori's echoing screams began as sprinted down the third tunnel, barely able to see for the tears in my eyes. My stomach clenched and roiled, demanding I throw up again, but his last orders kept me upright, kept me moving. I don't know how I kept up my pace, my breathing was little more than gasping whimpers as I fought to keep going, shame and fear attacking me equally.

I made it down that tunnel, then the next, then up a long ramp that would deposit me in a small garage. Reaching the door was as far as I got before I couldn't keep moving, falling to my hands and knees as I retched again.

Gregori...

"No... no..." I gasped, pushing myself away from the mess on the floor, spitting again. "No. Vengeance... I have to g-get it together. Have to find Akia. Find everyone, get away from here."

He'd told me to become the next Alpha... the fight wouldn't end here. It couldn't. Not like this, the legacy of Leonard Bern wouldn't die like this. I.. I would avenge them, I _had_ to. I had to honor his last command, the order he'd given his life to give.

I could handle this.

I could do this.

"Have to get moving... have to move." My fingers were shaking like I was high on dust, but I managed to get the password right on my third try, the hatch sliding open to reveal a dimly lit garage filled with wrecked aircars that had long been pulled apart for salvage. Killing my omni-tool, I stepped out and shut the door behind me, locking it again to buy me a couple of seconds.

Akia... Akia would be near our lifts down to Cala, where we usually did deals with the Brotherhood. We could use those to get out, to get away. We'd come back later, find out who did this, why they'd done it, how we'd avenge everyone.

Nodding to myself, and trying to wipe some of the mess off of my chin, I got going, creeping through the place towards the nearest exit. I realized about halfway there that something was wrong, my brain screaming that things weren't right, but it wasn't until I reached the side-door that I realized what it was.

Everything... was still quiet. It shouldn't have been, our turf was usually packed with people and sounded like a riot in progress. Swallowing, I carefully shuffled forwards and peaked out.

The streets were empty but for figures in dark armor, moving in pairs, dragging bodies behind them. Blood covered the street in streaks, leaking from the corpses as they were moved around, the... the Silver Blades hauling around my dead friends like they were nothing. Their heads bobbed and moved, maybe talking on their radios, but not letting anything out of their speakers, leaving everything quiet except for their armored footfalls.

Oh _God_...

Choking down another whimper, or maybe a scream of frustration, I skittered back and retreated deeper into the garage. I couldn't get out... no, no, I _had_ to get out. I'd... it was my _duty_ to get out, a silent promise. I had to get out. Had to find Akia. She was smart, she'd have taken the lifts, would have run to Cala. If I cou... _when_ I got there, I'd find her. Tell her Gregori's last order.

"How... how... how?" I muttered, trying to force myself to think when all I wanted was to curl up in a corner and sob.

The aircars were all wrecks, and I couldn't drive in either case. So I was stuck on foot. I couldn't go out, the garage only lead to the streets, they'd see me. I could.. I could take my clothes off, pretend to be a whore running from the fighting inside. They might let me go... or they might decide to have some fun. Or maybe just kill me... but it... it was a shot. I was definitely panicked and terrified enough... but... if they knew my face, knew who our Pack leaders were...

No... no that wouldn't work. I was too scared to lie properly. I... I _could_ go back into the warrens. Take the downward tunnel right next to this one. We didn't know where it went, but it would go away from here. That... that was important. That Quarian... _thing_ would still be down there, but it might have turned back, might have accepted it had lost me. Might have been satisfied with tearing apart Gregori so badly he'd screamed like-

My hand flew to my mouth, covering it before a sound could get out.

The mission. The mission. My orders. I had to follow them. Get out. Akia. Gozu. Avenge.

The warrens, back into the warrens. I'd make a run for it, take any direction that took my downwards, at least one level. Then I could find a way out, track down Akia. That was a plan. I could handle this.

Glancing at the side-door again, I swallowed, then darted as quietly as I could back to the concealed door I'd just come out of. The password was a bit easier to enter this time, and I stepped back in to the tunnel, finding the lights back up at their dim setting. I stared at the empty space, trying to look for the heat-wave thing I'd seen before... and saw nothing. Swallowing, I shut the door behind me, gathered myself, and set off down the slope as quickly as my exhausted body would allow. I didn't have to go far to reach the intersection, the three way cross leading up, down, and then back to our base.

I stopped at the corner, trying to get my chest to stop heaving, tried to listen, to hear anything besides the buzz of silence.

Gulping, I tightened my grip on my pistol, rocked back and forth a little, and threw myself forwards.

Something hit me in the stomach at a million miles an hour.

I screamed in pain as I stumbled, my right shoulder slamming into the corner of the wall, sending even more agony through me. My pistol flew out of my grip as I bounced back, falling onto my side, curling around my stomach as pain reverberated with each breath. Opening my eyes saw a tiny hole on the left side of my abdomen, bits of blood dribbling out, and I couldn't stop a pained sob from coming out.

Then an armored foot came to rest beside my head, letting me see a black shin. My eyes slid upwards, following curved armor and a skin-tight bodysuit, both entirely black, and a faceless helmet seemingly looking back at me. A moment later the figure reached up and pulled it off, revealing...

"Nula?" I gasped.

The plain little Asari smiled at me... but her features weren't plain anymore. White streaks of paint started on her forehead, sliding down over each eye to end on her cheeks. "Yvette, you led us on a lovely little chase. Smart of you to double back, but I'm afraid you weren't quite fast enough."

"I..." More pain began to spread from my back, and I whimpered, "I... please, Nula, please."

She ignored me, turning around. "Orders ma'am?"

I had to fight to focus, but I realized she wasn't alone. Another five figures in armor like hers were present, and so was...

I sobbed and tried to back away as a Quarian calmly walked forwards. Her armor was a blue so dark it was nearly black, edged in silver that drew attention to the long coat she was wearing. Both were covered liberally in red blood, and her eyes were half-obscured by a red palm print across her face, as if Gregori had tried to push her off. She ignored my whimpers, settling into a crouch beside Nula, hovering over me.

A necklace hung down as she did, bones and metals clinking softly, drawing my attention. Dog tags, Turian Claws, Batarian teeth, and shards of something black swayed a little, and I suddenly knew who this was. Knew who was leaning over me. Knew just how much Gregori would have suffered in the few minutes before she got bored.

"Please..." The words came out before I could stop them. "Please... please no... please... I'll do anything..."

"Smart enough to run." The nightmare murmured, her soft voice thick, like she was high on drugs, sex, and was ready for more. "Smart enough to realize the warrens were your best option."

I cast my eyes around desperately, settling on Nula, pain and terror making my voice shake. "Nula, _please..._ oh god, please!"

"Yet so whiny and annoying." The Quarian shook her head as if annoyed, rose, and turned away. "Trash. Deal with it."

"Yes ma'am." Nula replied, drawing her pistol before pausing. "Should we take her prisoner for questioning?"

"No." Came the reply even as she walked back the way we'd come. "We have everything we need."

"Very good ma'am." Nula spoke, though the woman didn't respond, merely continuing on as if none of this mattered.

No... no, no, no! Not like this, it couldn't end like this! Gregori had died for me, I couldn't... I couldn't! " _Nula_ , please ! I'll do... do anything! Anything! I'll..." Oh God, I didn't.. I didn't want to die, "I'll be your slave! I'll do anything for you! Sleep with you! Serve you! I..."

Pain made me start coughing violently, breaking my pleading. Nula simply observed me, a small smile on her face, and didn't speak until I'd finished. "Sorry hon, orders are orders... and we don't deal in slaves."

"Please..." I whimpered, watching as she aimed the weapon, the black circle suddenly all I could see. Not like this. Not like this. "Please... I don't want to die."

"No one does."

"Please Nula!" I opened my mouth, saw her finger start to move, "No! Don-"

She finished pulling the trigger.

* * *

 _What the other side of a Blades 'training mission' looks like when Cieran lets Voya... indulge herself._

 ** _ **Please read and review, criticism is welcome, flames not so much, as usual. Reviews are my lifeblood as a writer.. every-time my email goes off with a review it makes me want to write more, so please take the time to leave one. Guests can leave them as well, and it only takes a minute, so please. Even if it's as simple as "I enjoyed it, please continue."**_**

 _ _ **Thanks, Kat**__


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